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ffionoxi  toe  3Sal?ac 

PARISIAN   LIFE 

VOLUME  IX 


LIMITED    TO   ONE    THOUSAND   COMPLETE   COPIES 


NO. 


7  1  3 


■'.../..„,.,*'...S  n  >,.-,.,.    <,.,-, 


BIXIOU,  BLONDET,  FINOT  AND  COUTURE 


"This  is  from  Fenelon  direct. —  Thus,  those  who 
know  the  world,  the  observers,  the  people  comme 
il  faut,  the  men  well-gloved  and  well-cravated,  who 

do  not  blush  to  many  a  woman  for  her  fortune,  they 
proclaim  as  indispensable  a  complete  separation  of 
interests  and  of  sentiments.  The  others  are  the  fools 
who  love  *  *  *  For  them,  millions  are  but  mud ; 
the  glove,  the  camelia,  worn  by  the  idol  is  worth  the 
millions." 


THE    NOVELS 


OF 


HONORE  DE  BALZAC 


NOW    FOR   THE    FIRST   TIME 
COMPLETELY   TRANSLATED    INTO    ENGLISH 


THE  HOUSE   OF  NUCINGEN 

THE  SECRETS  OF  LA   PRINCESSE  DE   CADIGNAN 

SARRASINE        FACINO   CANE 

A   MAN  OF  BUSINESS 

THE  INVOLUNTARY  COMEDIANS 

BY  WILLIAM  WALTON 


WITH    FIVE    ETCHINGS    BY    CHARLES-BERNARD    DE    BILLY, 
AFTER   PAINTINGS    BY   ALCIDE-THEOPHILE   ROBAUDI 


IN  ONE  VOLUME 


PRINTED  ONLY  FOR  SUBSCRIBERS  BY 

GEORGE   BARRIE   &   SON,    PHILADELPHIA 


COPYRIGHTED,    1 896,    BY   G.    B.    A    SON 


•  .      .      <  •       «        «        *    l  *  ■■,..  >•.• 

..     .  -..  •  ♦..>.-.  *     ■ 


,,    -. 

*       *  • 

:  •  •      •.   •. 


o 


THE  HOUSE  OF  NUCINGEN 


1899G4 


TO  MADAME  ZULMA  CARRAUD 

Is  it  not  to  you,  Madame,  whose  lofty  and  upright 
intelligence  is  as  a  treasure  for  all  your  friends,  to 
you,  who  are  at  once  for  me  an  entire  public  and  the 
most  indulgent  of  sisters,  that  I  should  dedicate  this 
work?  Deign  to  accept  it  in  testimony  of  a  friend- 
ship of  which  I  am  proud.  You  and  some  other 
souls,  fine  as  your  own,  will  comprehend  my  design 
in  reading  The  House  of  Nucingen  coupled  with 
Cesar  Birotteau.  In  this  contrast,  is  there  not  an 
entire  social  lesson? 

De  Balzac. 


(3) 


THE  HOUSE  OF  NUCINGEN 

You  are  acquainted  with  the  thinness  of  the  par- 
titions which    separate  the  little  apartments,  the 
cabinets  particuliers,  in  the  most  elegant  restaurants 
in  Paris.     In  that  of  Very,  for  instance,  the  largest 
room  is  cut  in  two  by  a  partition  which  is  removed 
and  restored  at  will.      This  scene  is  not  laid  there, 
but  in  a  good  locality,  which  it  is  not  convenient  for 
me  to  designate.     There  were  two  of  us.     I  will  say, 
then,  like  the  Prudhomme  of  Henry  Monnier;    "I 
would  not  wish  to   compromise   her."     We   were 
lingering  over  the  delicacies  of  a  dinner,  admirable 
in  many  respects,  in  a  little  apartment,  in  which  we 
were  conversing  in  low  tones,  having  due  regard  for 
the  lack  of  thickness  of  the  partition.     We  had  pro- 
gressed as  far  as  the  roast  without  having  had  any 
neighbors  in  the  apartment  adjoining  ours,  in  which 
we   heard   only  the  crackling   of   the   fire.     Eight 
o'clock  sounded.    There  was  a  great  noise  of  feet,  the 
sound   of   words   exchanged,    the   waiters    brought 
candles.     It  was  demonstrated  to  us  that  the  neigh- 
boring apartment  was  occupied.     In  recognizing  the 
voices,  I  knew  what  sort  of  personages  were  these 

(5) 


6  THE  HOUSE  OF  NUCINGEN 

occupants.  They  were  four  of  the  most  enterprising 
cormorants  sprung  from  the  foam  which  tops  the 
incessantly  renewed  waves  of  the  present  genera- 
tion ;  good-natured  youths,  whose  support  is  prob- 
lematical, who  are  not  known  to  possess  either 
incomes  or  estates,  and  yet  who  live  well.  These 
clever  condoltieri  of  modern  industry,  which  has 
become  the  crudest  of  wars,  leave  all  the  worries  to 
their  creditors,  keep  all  the  pleasures  for  themselves, 
and  have  no  other  care  than  that  of  their  apparel. 
Moreover,  bold  enough  to  smoke,  like  Jean  Bart, 
their  cigar  over  a  barrel  of  powder,  perhaps  in  order 
not  to  fail  in  their  particular  role;  greater  scoffers, 
even,  than  the  smaller  newspapers,  scoffers  that 
would  not  hesitate  to  ridicule  themselves;  perspi- 
cacious and  incredulous,  inquirers  into  the  affairs 
of  others,  avaricious  and  prodigal,  envious  of  others, 
but  satisfied  with  themselves;  profound  politicians 
at  moments,  analyzing  all,  guessing  at  everything, 
they  had  not  yet  been  able  to  shine  in  the  world  in 
which  they  wished  to  display  themselves.  One 
only  of  the  four  had  succeeded,  but  only  to  the  foot 
of  the  ladder.  It  is  nothing  to  have  money,  and  a 
parvenu  only  knows  what  is  deficient  in  him  after 
six  months  of  flatteries.  Not  much  of  a  talker,  cold, 
affectedly  grave,  without  wit,  this  parvenu,  whose 
name  was  Andoche  Finot,  had  had  heart  enough  to 
prostrate  himself  on  his  stomach  before  those  who 
could  serve  him,  and  wit  enough  to  be  insolent  to 
those  of  whom  he  had  no  need.  Like  one  of  the 
grotesque  figures  of  the  ballet  of  "Gustave,"  he  was 


THE  HOUSE  OF  NUCINGEN  7 

marquis  behind  and  a  villain  in  front.  This  indus- 
trial prelate  kept  a  train-bearer,  Emile  Blondet, 
editor  of  a  newspaper,  a  man  of  a  good  deal  of 
ingenuity,  but  ill-regulated,  bright,  capable,  lazy, 
knowing  himself  exploited,  but  permitting  himself  to 
be  so;  perfidious,  as  he  was  good,  by  impulses;  one 
of  those  men  whom  you  like  and  for  whom  you 
have  no  respect.  Sharp  as  a  soubrette  of  comedy, 
incapable  of  refusing  his  pen  to  any  one  who  asked 
it  and  his  heart  to  anyone  who  borrowed  it,  Emile 
is  the  most  attractive  of  these  girl-men  of  whom  the 
most  fanciful  of  our  wits  has  said:  "I  like  them 
better  in  satin  slippers  than  in  boots."  The  third 
man,  named  Couture,  supported  himself  by  specula- 
tions. He  grafted  one  enterprise  upon  another;  the 
success  of  one  covered  the  failure  of  the  other. 
Thus  he  maintained  himself  on  the  surface,  sus- 
tained by  the  nervous  strength  of  his  activity, 
by  sharp  and  audacious  strokes.  He  swam  about 
here  and  there,  seeking  in  the  immense  sea  of 
Parisian  affairs  an  islet  sufficiently  contestable 
for  him  to  lodge  himself  thereon.  Evidently,  he 
was  not  in  his  place.  As  to  the  last,  the  most 
malicious  of  the  four,  his  name  alone  will  suffice: 
Bixiou!  Alas,  it  was  no  longer  the  Bixiou  of  1825, 
but  the  one  of  1836,  the  misanthropical  buffoon, 
with  his  mad  fancy  and  biting  wit,  a  poor  devil 
exasperated  at  having  expended  so  much  wit  in 
pure  loss,  furious  at  not  having  picked  up  his  lucky 
find  in  the  last  revolution,  giving  a  kick  to  each  one 
like  a  true  Pierrot  of  the  Funambules,  having  the 


8  THE  HOUSE  OF  NUCINGEN 

knowledge  of  his  own  epoch  and  of  its  scandalous 
adventures  on  the  tips  of  his  fingers,  ornamenting 
them  with  his  own  droll  inventions,  leaping  on 
everybody's  shoulders  like  a  clown  and  endeavor- 
ing to  leave  a  mark  there  like  an  executioner. 

After  having  satisfied  the  first  cravings  of  gour- 
mandizing,  our  neighbors  arrived  at  the  station  in 
which  we  were  in  our  dinner,  at  the  dessert;  and, 
thanks  to  our  silence,  they  thought  themselves  alone. 
With  the  smoke  of  the  cigars,  with  the  aid  of 
the  champagne,  interspersed  with  the  gastronomical 
pleasures  of  the  dessert,  they  fell  into  familiar  con- 
versation. Characterized  by  that  icy  spirit  which 
stiffens  the  most  elastic  sentiments,  arrests  the 
most  generous  inspirations,  and  gives  to  laughter 
something  cutting,  this  talking,  full  of  the  bitter 
irony  which  changes  gaiety  into  sneering,  betrayed 
the  exhaustion  of  souls  delivered  over  entirely  to 
themselves,  without  any  other  aim  than  the  satis- 
faction of  egotism,  a  fruit  of  the  peace  in  which  we 
dwell.  That  pamphlet  against  man  which  Diderot 
did  not  dare  to  publish,  le  Neveu  de  Rameau,  that 
book,  which  reveals  everything  in  order  to  show 
the  wounds,  is  alone  comparable  to  this  pamphlet 
uttered  without  any  after-thought,  in  which  the  lan- 
guage does  not  even  respect  that  which  the  thinker 
is  still  discussing,  in  which  nothing  is  constructed 
save  with  ruins,  in  which  everything  is  denied,  in 
which  nothing  is  admired  save  that  which  skepti- 
cism adopts, — the  omnipotence,  the  omniscience,  the 
all-congruity  of  money.     After  having  taken  stray 


THE   HOUSE  OF  NUCINGEN  9 

shots  in  the  circle  of  acquaintances,  back-biting 
now  began  to  massacre  intimate  friends.  One  indi- 
cation will  suffice  to  explain  the  desire  which  I  had 
to  remain  and  to  listen  to  the  moment  when 
Bixiou  began  to  speak,  as  will  be  seen.  We  then 
heard  one  of  those  terrible  improvisations  which 
secured  for  this  artist  his  reputation  among  a  cer- 
tain number  of  blase  spirits;  and  though  often 
interrupted,  commenced  and  recommenced,  it  was 
stenographed  in  my  memory.  Opinions  and  form, 
everything  was  outside  of  all  literary  conditions. 
But  this  is  what  it  was, — a  pot-pourri  of  sinister 
things  which  paint  our  time,  of  which  should  be 
recounted  none  but  similar  histories,  and  I  leave  the 
responsibility,  moreover,  to  the  principal  narrator. 
The  pantomime,  the  gestures,  in  harmony  with  the 
frequent  changes  of  the  voice  by  which  Bixiou 
depicted  the  various  personages  brought  on  to  the 
scene,  must  have  been  perfect,  for  his  three  audi- 
tors uttered  from  time  to  time  approving  exclama- 
tions and  satisfied  interjections. 

"And  Rastignac  refused  you?"  said  Blondet  to 
Finot. 

"Flatly." 

"But  did  you  threaten  him  with  the  papers?" 
asked  Bixiou. 

"He  just  laughed,"  answered  Finot. 

"Rastignac  is  the  direct  heir  of  the  late  De  Mar- 
say;  he  makes  his  way  in  politics  as  in  the  world," 
said  Blondet 

"But   how   did   he   make   his   fortune?"    asked 


IO  THE  HOUSE  OF  NUCINGEN 

Couture.  "He  was  in  1819,  with  the  illustrious 
Bianchon,  in  a  miserable  boarding-house  of  the  Latin 
Quarter;  his  family  dined  on  scraps  and  drank  raw 
wine,  so  as  to  send  him  a  hundred  francs  a  month; 
the  estate  of  his  father  was  not  worth  a  thousand 
ecus;  he  had  two  sisters  and  a  brother  on  his  hands, 
and  now — " 

"Now,  he  has  an  income  of  forty  thousand 
francs,"  resumed  Finot;  "each  of  his  sisters  is 
richly  dowered,  married  in  the  nobility,  and  he  has 
left  the  usufruct  of  his  estate  to  his  mother — " 

"In  1827,"  said  Blondet,  "I  saw  him  still  with- 
out a  sou." 

"Oh!  in  1827!"  said  Bixiou. 

"Well,"  resumed  Finot,  "to-day  we  see  him  in  a 
fair  way  to  become  a  minister,  peer  of  France,  and 
everything  that  he  could  wish!  Three  years  ago 
he  got  rid  of  Delphine  comfortably ;  he  will  only 
marry  under  good  conditions,  and  he  can  marry 
some  young  girl  of  noble  rank,  he  can ! — The  scamp 
has  had  the  good  sense  to  attach  himself  to  a  rich 
woman." 

"My  friends,  give  him  credit  for  favorable  cir- 
cumstances," said  Blondet;  "he  fell  into  the  hands 
of  a  clever  man  when  he  escaped  from  the  clutches 
of  poverty." 

"You  know  Nucingen  well,"  said  Bixiou;  "in 
the  early  days,  Delphine  and  Rastignac  found  him 
good ;  a  wife  seemed  to  be  for  him  in  his  house,  a 
plaything,  an  ornament.  And  this  is  what,  for  me, 
makes    this    man    so    remarkable    and    decided, — 


THE   HOUSE   OF   NUCINGEN  II 

Nucingen  does  not  hesitate  to  say  that  his  wife  is 
the  representation  of  his  fortune,  an  indispensable 
thing,  but  one  of  secondary  value  in  the  life  at 
high  pressure  of  men  in  politics  and  the  great  finan- 
ciers. He  said,  before  me,  that  Bonaparte  was  as 
stupid  as  a  bourgeois  in  his  first  relations  with 
Josephine,  and  that,  after  having  had  the  courage  to 
take  her  for  a  stepping-stone,  he  was  ridiculous  in 
being  willing  to  make  a  companion  of  her." 

"Every  man  of  superior  qualities  should  have 
concerning  women  the  opinions  of  the  Orient,"  said 
Blondet. 

"The  baron  melted  the  Oriental  and  Occidental 
doctrines  together  into  a  charming  Parisian  doc- 
trine. He  held  De  Marsay  in  horror,  as  he  was 
not  manageable,  but  Rastignac  pleased  him  a  great 
deal  and  he  exploited  him  without  Rastignac's  hav- 
ing the  least  idea  of  it:  he  put  on  him  all  the  charge 
of  his  household.  Rastignac  took  on  his  back  all 
the  whims  of  Delphine,  he  drove  her  to  the  Bois,  he 
accompanied  her  to  the  theatre.  This  great  little 
man  of  politics  of  to-day  for  a  long  time  passed  his 
life  in  reading  and  writing  pretty  notes.  In  the 
commencement  of  things,  Eugene  was  scolded  for 
trifles;  he  was  lively  with  Delphine  when  she  was 
gay,  he  was  melancholy  when  she  was  sad;  he  sup- 
ported the  weight  of  all  her  headaches,  of  her  confi- 
dences; he  gave  her  all  his  time,  his  hours,  his 
precious  youth,  to  fill  up  the  emptiness  of  the  idle- 
ness of  this  Parisian  woman.  Delphine  and  he  held 
great  consultations  over  the  adornments  which  were 


12  THE   HOUSE  OF  NUCINGEN 

most  becoming  to  her,  he  sustained  all  the  fire  of 
her  anger  and  the  broadsides  of  her  poutings;  dur- 
ing which  time,  in  compensation,  she  made  herself 
charming  for  the  baron.  The  baron,  for  his  part, 
laughed  in  his  sleeve;  then,  when  he  saw  Rastignac 
bending  under  the  weight  of  his  duties,  he  assumed 
the  air  of  suspecting  something  and  reunited  the  two 
lovers  by  a  common  fear." 

"I  can  understand  that  a  rich  woman  could  have 
made  Rastignac  live,  and  live  honorably;  but 
where  did  he  get  his  fortune?"  asked  Couture. 
"A  fortune  as  considerable  as  his  is  to-day  has 
to  be  found  somewhere,  and  no  one  has  ever 
accused  him  of  having  invented  a  good  piece  of 
business?" 

"He  inherited,"  said  Finot. 

"Of  whom?"  said  Blondet. 

"Of  imbeciles  whom  he  met, "  answered  Couture. 

"He  did  not  take  it  all,  my  little  loves,"  said 
Bixiou : — 

" — Dispense  with  your  unwonted  fear; 

The  age  with  fraud  holds  compact  dear." 

"I  will  relate  to  you  the  origin  of  his  fortune.  In 
the  first  place,  let  us  pay  homage  to  talent!  Our 
friend  is  not  a  scamp,  as  Finot  says,  but  a  gentle- 
man who  knows  the  game,  who  is  acquainted  with 
the  cards,  and  whom  the  gallery  respects.  Rastignac 
has  all  the  wit  which  it  is  necessary  to  have  at  a 
given  moment,  like  a  military  man  who  only  stakes 
his  courage  at  ninety  days,  three  signatures  and  an 


THE  HOUSE   OF  NUCINGEN  13 

endorsement.  He  may  seem  heedless,  scatter- 
brained, without  connection  in  his  ideas,  without 
constancy  in  his  projects,  without  any  fixed  opinion ; 
but,  if  there  should  present  itself  a  serious  affair,  a 
combination  to  follow,  he  will  not  scatter  himself, 
like  Blondet,  whom  you  see,  and  who  goes  off  into 
discussions  for  the  account  of  his  neighbor.  Ras- 
tignac  concentrates  himself,  gathers  himself  up, 
studies  the  point  at  which  he  must  charge,  and  he 
charges  furiously.  With  the  valor  of  Murat,  he 
drives  in  the  squares,  the  shareholders,  the  foun- 
ders, and  the  whole  shop;  when  the  charge  has 
made  its  hole,  he  returns  to  his  soft  and  careless 
life,  he  becomes  again  the  man  of  the  Midi,  the  vo- 
luptuous, thesayer  of  nothings,  the  unoccupied  Ras- 
tignac,  who  can  lie  abed  till  mid-day  because  he  did 
not  go  to  bed  at  the  moment  of  the  crisis." 

"All  this  is  very  well,  but  let  us  get  to  his  for- 
tune," said  Finot. 

"Bixiou  will  only  give  us  one  charge,"  added 
Blondet.  "The fortune  of  Rastignac,  it  is  Delphine 
de  Nucingen,  a  remarkable  woman,  and  one  who 
joins  audacity  to  foresight." 

"Has  she  borrowed  money  of  you  ?"  asked  Bixiou. 

A  general  laugh  broke  out. 

"You  are  mistaken  about  her,"  said  Couture  to 
Blondet;  "her  wit  consists  in  saying  more  or  less 
piquant  words,  in  loving  Rastignac  with  a  wearying 
fidelity,  in  obeying  him  blindly,  a  woman  alto- 
gether Italian." 

"Money  apart,"  said  Andoche  Finot,  sharply. 


14  THE  HOUSE  OF  NUCINGEN 

"Come,  come,"  resumed  Bixiou,  in  a  wheedling 
voice,  "after  what  we  have  just  said,  will  you  still 
dare  to  reproach  this  poor  Rastignac  with  having 
lived  at  the  expense  of  the  house  of  Nucingen,  with 
having  been  set  up  in  his  house  neither  more  nor 
less  than  was  La  Torpille  formerly  by  our  friend 
des  Lupeaulx?  You  will  fall  into  the  vulgarity  of 
the  Rue  Saint-Denis.  To  begin  with,  speaking 
abstractly,  as  Royer-Collard  says,  the  question  may 
bring  up  'the  criticism  of  pure  reason;'  while  as 
to  that  of  impure  reason — " 

"Now  he  is  off,"  said  Finot  to  Blondet 

"But,"  cried  Blondet,  "he  is  right.  The  ques- 
tion is  very  ancient;  it  was  the  great  word  in  the 
famous  duel  to  death  between  La  Chataigneraie 
and  Jarnac.  Jarnac  was  accused  of  being  on  good 
terms  with  his  mother-in-law,  who  furnished  the 
pomp  of  the  too-much  loved  son-in-law.  When  a 
fact  is  so  true,  it  should  not  be  uttered.  Through 
his  devotion  for  the  king,  Henri  II.,  who  had  permit- 
ted himself  this  evil  speaking,  La  Chataigneraie 
took  it  on  his  own  account;  hence  this  duel,  which 
has  enriched  the  French  language  with  the  expres- 
sion coup  de  jarnac." 

"Ah!  if  the  expression  comes  from  so  far  back, 
it  is  then  noble?"  said  Finot. 

"You  might  be  ignorant  of  that  in  your  character 
of  a  former  proprietor  of  newspapers  and  reviews," 
said  Blondet. 

"There  are  women,"  resumed  Bixiou,  gravely, 
"there  are  also  men,  who  can  saw  their  existence  in 


THE   HOUSE   OF  NUCINGEN  I  5 

two,  and  only  give  away  a  part  of  it — observe  that  I 
phrase  my  opinion  after  the  humanitarian  formula — . 
For  those  men,  all  material  interest  is  outside  of  the 
sentiments;  they  give  their  life,  their  time,  their 
honor,  to  a  woman,  and  consider  that  it  is  not  good 
style  to  spend  between  them  that  silk  paper  on  which 
is  engraved:  'The  law  punishes  the  counterfeiter 
with  death.'  Reciprocally,  these  individuals  accept 
nothing  from  a  woman.  Yes,  everything  becomes 
dishonoring  if  there  is  a  community  of  interest  as 
there  is  a  community  of  souls.  This  doctrine  is 
confessed;  it  is  rarely  applied." 

"Well,"  said  Blondet,  "what  punctiliousness! 
The  Marechal  de  Richelieu,  who  was  versed  in  the 
science  of  gallantry,  granted  a  pension  of  a  thous- 
and louis  to  Madame  de  la  Popeliniere,  after  the 
adventure  of  the  chimney  plaque.  Agnes  Sorel 
brought  quite  naively  to  the  king,  Charles  VII.,  her 
fortune,  and  the  king  took  it.  Jacques  Cceur  con- 
tributed to  the  support  of  the  French  crown,  which 
allowed  him  to  do  so,  and  was  as  ungrateful  as  a 
woman." 

"Monsieur,"  said  Bixiou,  "that  love  which  does 
not  consist  of  an  indissoluole  friendship  seems  to 
me  a  momentary  libertinism.  What  is  an  entire 
abandonment  in  which  something  is  reserved? 
Between  these  two  doctrines,  thus  opposed  and  as 
profoundly  immoral  one  as  the  other,  there  is  no  pos- 
sible conciliation.  According  to  my  ideas,  those  who 
fear  a  complete  liaison  doubtless  fear  that  it  may 
come  to  an  end,  and  then,  adieu  illusion!    Passion 


16  THE  HOUSE  OF  NUCINGEN 

which  does  not  believe  itself  eternal  is  hideous. 
— This  is  from  Fenelon  direct. — Thus,  those  who 
know  the  world,  the  observers,  the  people  comme 
il  feint,  the  men  well-gloved  and  well-cravated,  who 
do  not  blush  to  marry  a  woman  for  her  fortune,  they 
proclaim  as  indispensable  a  complete  separation  of 
interests  and  of  sentiments.  The  others  are  the 
fools  who  love,  who  believe  themselves  alone  in  the 
world  with  their  mistress!  For  them,  millions  are 
but  mud;  the  glove,  the  camelia,  worn  by  the  idol 
is  worth  the  millions.  If  you  never  find  among 
them  any  traces  of  the  base  metal  dissipated,  you 
will  find  the  remains  of  flowers  hidden  in  pretty 
cedar-boxes.  They  are  not  to  be  distinguished  one 
from  the  other.  For  them,  there  is  no  longer  any 
I.  THOU,  that  is  their  incarnate  Word.  What 
would  you  have!  Would  you  hinder  this  secret 
malady  of  the  heart?  There  are  idiots  who  love 
without  any  kind  of  calculation,  and  there  are  sages 
who  calculate  in  loving." 

"Bixiou  seems  to  me  sublime,"  cried  Blondet. 
"What  does  Finot  say  about  it?" 

"Everywhere  else,"  replied  Finot,  settling  his 
cravat,  "I  would  say  like  the  gentleman;  but,  here, 
I  think—" 

"Like  the  infamous  badly  disposed  persons  with 
whom  you  have  the  honor  of  being,"  interrupted 
Bixiou. 

"Faith,  yes,"  said  Finot. 

"And  you?"  said  Bixiou  to  Couture. 

"Imbecilities,"  cried  Couture.     "A  woman  who 


THE  HOUSE  OF  NUCINGEN  17 

does  not  make  of  her  body  a  stepping-stone  to  enable 
the  man  she  distinguishes  to  arrive  at  his  aim,  is 
a  woman  who  has  a  heart  for  no  one  but  herself." 

"And  you,  Blondet?" 

"I — I  practice." 

"Well,"  resumed  Bixiou,  in  his  most  biting  voice, 
"Rastignac  was  not  of  your  opinion.  To  take  and 
not  to  give  is  horrible  and  even  somewhat  light; 
but  to  take  in  order  to  have  the  right  to  imitate  the 
Lord,  in  returning  an  hundred-fold,  is  a  chivalrous 
act.  Thus  thought  Rastignac.  Rastignac  was  pro- 
foundly humiliated  at  his  community  of  interests 
with  Delphine  de  Nucingen.  I  can  speak  of  his 
regrets;  1  have  seen  him  with  tears  in  his  eyes, 
deploring  his  position.  Yes,  he  wept  of  it  verita- 
bly— after  supper!     Well,  according  to  us — " 

"Ah!  now  you  are  ridiculing  us,"  said  Finot. 

"Not  the  least  in  the  world.  It  concerns  Ras- 
tignac, whose  mortification  would  be,  according  to 
you,  a  proof  of  his  corruption;  for  he  then  loved 
Delphine  much  less.  But  what  would  you  have !  the 
poor  boy  had  this  thorn  in  his  heart.  He  is  a  gen- 
tleman profoundly  depraved,  as  you  see,  and  we  are 
virtuous  artists.  Then,  Rastignac  wished  to  enrich 
Delphine,  he  poor,  she  rich!  Would  you  believe 
it? — he  succeeded.  Rastignac,  who  would  have 
combated  like  Jarnac,  went  over  from  that  time  to 
the  opinion  of  Henri  II.,  in  virtue  of  his  fine  saying: 
'There  is  no  absolute  virtue,  but  there  are  circum- 
stances.' This  is  connected  with  the  history  of  his 
fortune." 
2 


18  THE  HOUSE  OF  NUCINGEN 

"You  would  do  well  to  go  on  with  your  story 
instead  of  enticing  us  to  calumniate  ourselves,"  said 
Blondet,  with  a  gracious  good-fellowship. 

"Ah!  ah!  my  little  one,"  said  Bixiou  to  him,  giv- 
ing him  the  baptism  of  a  little  tap  on  the  occiput, 
"you  will  pick  yourself  up  again  in  the  cham- 
pagne." 

"Oh!  by  the  holy  name  of  the  stockholder," 
said  Couture,  "tell  us  your  story!" 

"1  am  within  a  notch  of  it,"  answered  Bixiou; 
"but,  with  your  oath,  you  have  brought  me  to  the 
denouement." 

"There  are,  then,  stockholders  in  the  history?" 
asked    Finot 

"Multo-rich  as  yours,"  answered  Bixiou. 

"It  seems  to  me,"  said  Finot  in  a  stiff  voice, 
"that  you  owe  some  consideration  to  a  good  lad  with 
whom  you  find  occasionally  a  note  of  five  hun- 
dred—" 

"Waiter!"  cried  Bixiou. 

"What  are  you  going  to  ask  of  the  waiter?"  said 
Blondet  to  him. 

"Five  hundred  francs,  to  return  them  to  Finot,  in 
order  that  I  may  disengage  my  tongue  and  tear  up 
my  receipt." 

"Tell  your  story,"  resumed  Finot,  feigning  to 
laugh. 

"You  are  all  witnesses,"  said  Bixiou,  "that  I  do 
not  belong  to  this  impertinent  who  thinks  that  my 
silence  is  only  worth  five  hundred  francs!  You  will 
never  be  minister  if  you  do  not  know  how  to  gauge 


THE   HOUSE  OF  NUCINGEN  19 

consciences.  Well,  yes,"  he  said,  in  a  cajoling 
voice,  "my  good  Finot,  1  will  tell  the  history  with- 
out any  personalities,  and  we  will  be  quits." 

"He  is  going  to  demonstrate  to  us,"  said  Couture, 
smiling,  "that  Nucingen  made  the  fortune  of  Ras- 
tignac. " 

"You  are  not  so  far  from  it  as  you  think,"  re- 
sumed Bixiou.  "You  do  not  know  what  Nucingen 
is,  financially  speaking." 

"You  do  not  even  know,"  said  Blondet,  "one 
thing  about  his  beginnings?" 

"I  have  only  known  him  in  his  own  house,"  said 
Bixiou,  "but  we  might  have  seen  each  other  in 
other  times  on  the  highway. "  

"The  prosperity  of  the  house  of  Nucingen  is  one 
of  the  most  extraordinary  phenomena  of  our  epoch, " 
resumed  Blondet.  "In  1804,  Nucingen  was  but 
little  known;  the  bankers  of  that  day  would  have 
trembled  to  have  known  that  there  were  on  the 
market  a  hundred  thousand  ecus  of  his  acceptances. 
This  grand  financier  was  conscious  of  his  inferiority. 
How  to  make  himself  known?  He  suspended  pay- 
ment. Good!  His  name,  restricted  to  Strasbourg 
and  to  the  Quartier  Poissonniere,  resounded  in  all 
the  exchanges!  He  indemnified  all  his  creditors 
with  non-interest  bearing  securities  and  resumed 
payment ;  immediately  his  papers  circulated  through- 
out France.  By  an  unheard-of  chance,  the  stocks 
came  up  again,  resumed  their  value,  paid  dividends. 
Nucingen  was  very  much  sought  after.  The  year 
181 5  arrived,  my  hero  consolidates  his  capital,  buys 


20  THE  HOUSE  OF  NUCINGEN 

funds  before  the  Battle  of  Waterloo,  suspends  pay- 
ment at  the  moment  of  the  crisis,  liquidates  with 
shares  in  the  mines  of  Wortschin  which  he  had  pro- 
cured at  twenty  per  cent  less  than  the  value  at 
which  he  had  put  them  out  himself!  yes,  Mes- 
sieurs !  He  took  from  Grandet  a  hundred  and  fifty 
thousand  bottles  of  champagne  to  cover  himself, 
foreseeing  the  failure  of  this  virtuous  father  of  the 
present  Comte  d'Aubrion,  and  as  many  from 
Duberghe  in  Bordeaux  wines.  These  three  hun- 
dred thousand  bottles  accepted,  accepted,  my  dear 
fellow,  at  thirty  sous,  he  caused  the  allies  to  drink 
at  six  francs,  at  the  Palais-Royal,  from  1817  to  1819. 
The  paper  of  the  house  of  Nucingen  and  his  name 
became  European.  This  illustrious  baron  had  lifted 
himself  out  of  the  abyss  in  which  others  would  have 
sunk.  Twice  his  liquidation  had  produced  immense 
advantages  to  his  creditors:  he  wished  to  get  the 
best  of  them,  impossible!  He  passed  for  the  most 
honest  man  in  the  world.  At  the  third  suspension, 
the  paper  of  the  house  of  Nucingen  was  circulating 
in  Asia,  in  Mexico,  in  Australia,  among  the  sav- 
ages. Ouvrard  is  the  only  one  who  had  found  out 
this  Alsatian,  the  son  of  some  Jew  converted  through 
ambition:  'When  Nucingen  lets  go  of  his  gold,' 
said  he,  'you  may  believe  that  he  is  seizing  dia- 
monds! '  " 

"His  ally,  Du  Tillet,  is  well  worthy  of  him," 
said  Finot.  "You  must  know  that  Du  Tillet  is  a 
man  who,  as  far  as  birth  went,  had  only  that  which 
is  absolutely  indispensable  for  existence,  and  that 


THE  HOUSE  OF  NUCINGEN  21 

this  beggar,  who  had  not  a  Hard  in  1814,  has  become 
what  you  see;  but  what  none  of  us — I  am  not  speak- 
ing of  you,  Couture, — has  been  able  to  do,  he  has 
had  friends  instead  of  having  enemies.  In  short, 
he  so  well  hid  his  antecedents,  that  it  was  neces- 
sary to  search  the  sewers  to  find  him,  no  later  than 
1814,  clerk  in  a  perfumer's  shop  in  the  Rue  Saint- 
Honore. " 

"Ta,  ta,  ta!"  resumed  Bixiou,  "never  compare 
Nucingen  to  a  little  timid  gambler  like  Du  Tillet,  a 
jackal  who  succeeds  through  his  sense  of  smell,  who 
scents  the  carcass  and  arrives  the  first  to  get  the 
best  bone.  Besides,  look  at  the  two  men, — one  of 
them  has  the  sharp  look  of  cats,  he  is  thin,  lank; 
the  other  is  cubical,  he  is  fat,  he  is  heavy  as  a  sack, 
immovable  as  a  diplomat.  Nucingen  has  a  thick 
hand  and  the  look  of  a  lynx,  which  never  becomes 
animated;  his  profundity  is  not  before,  but  behind: 
he  is  impenetrable,  he  is  never  seen  to  come,  while 
the  sharpness  of  Du  Tillet  resembles,  as  Napoleon 
said  of  someone,  I  have  forgotten  whom,  'cotton  spun 
too  fine,  it  breaks.'  " 

"I  do  not  see  in  Nucingen  any  other  advantage 
over  Du  Tillet  than  that  of  having  the  good  sense  to 
understand  that  a  financier  should  be  no  more  than 
a  baron,  whilst  Du  Tillet  wishes  to  have  himself 
made  a  count  in  Italy,"  said  Blondet. 

"Blondet, — a  word,  my  child,"  said  Couture. 
"In  the  first  place,  Nucingen  has  ventured  to  say 
that  he  has  only  the  semblance  of  an  honest  man; 
then,  to   know    him    well,   it  is  necessary  to  deal 


22  THE  HOUSE  OF  NUCINGEN 

with  him.  With  him  the  bank  is  a  very  small 
department, — there  is  the  furnishing  of  government 
supplies,  the  wines,  the  wools,  the  indigoes,  in 
short,  all  that  might  be  made  to  contribute  to  any 
gain  whatsoever.  His  genius  embraces  everything. 
This  elephant  of  finance  would  sell  deputies  to  the 
minister,  and  the  Greeks  to  the  Turks.  For  him, 
commerce  is,  as  Cousin  would  say,  the  totality  of 
varieties,  the  unity  of  specialties.  Banking,  con- 
sidered in  this  light,  thus  becomes  a  whole  political 
system ;  it  requires  a  powerful  head  and  carries  a 
man  whose  metal  is  well  tempered  to  lift  himself 
above  the  laws  of  probity,  in  which  he  finds  him- 
self cramped." 

"You  are  right,  my  son,"  said  Blondet.  "But 
we  alone,  we  comprehend  what  it  is  thus  to  have 
war  carried  into  the  monetary  world.  The  banker 
is  a  conqueror  who  sacrifices  masses  to  arrive  at 
hidden  results,  his  soldiers  are  the  interests  of  indi- 
viduals. He  has  his  stratagems  to  combine,  his 
ambuscades  to  prepare,  his  partisans  to  send  out, 
his  cities  to  take.  The  greater  number  of  these 
men  are  so  close  to  politics  that  they  end  by  going 
into  it,  and  there  losing  their  fortunes.  The  house 
of  Necker  was  thus  destroyed,  the  famous  Samuel 
Bernard  was  there  almost  ruined.  In  every  century 
there  may  be  found  a  banker  with  a  colossal  fortune 
who  leaves  neither  fortune  nor  successor.  The. 
brothers  Paris,  who  contributed  to  bring  down  Law, 
and  Law  himself,  besides  whom  all  those  who  float 
stock   companies    are    pigmies;    Bouret,  Beaujon, 


THE  HOUSE  OF  NUCINGEN  23 

all  have  disappeared  without  leaving  a  family  to 
represent  them.  Like  Saturn,  the  bank  devours  its 
own  children.  In  order  to  subsist,  the  banker 
should  become  a  noble,  found  a  dynasty  like  the 
money-lenders  of  Charles  V.,  the  Fuggers,  created 
princes  of  Babenhausen,  and  who  still  exist — in  the 
Almanach  de  Gotha.  The  bank  seeks  nobility 
through  an  instinct  of  self-preservation,  and  without 
knowing  it,  perhaps.  Jacques  Cceur  founded  a 
great  noble  house,  that  of  Noirmoutier,  extinct  under 
Louis  XIII.  What  energy  in  that  man,  ruined  for 
having  made  a  legitimate  king!  He  died  prince  of 
an  island  in  the  Archipelago,  where  he  built  a  mag- 
nificent cathedral." 

"Ah !  if  you  are  going  to  give  a  course  of  history, 
we  will  get  away  from  present  time,  when  the 
throne  is  devoid  of  the  right  of  conferring  nobility, 
when  barons  and  counts  are  made  behind  closed 
doors.    What  a  pity!"  said  Finot. 

"You  regret  the  savonnette  h  vilain,"*  said  Bix- 
iou;  "you  are  right.  I  return  to  our  subject.  Do 
you  know  Beaudenord?  No,  no,  no!  Good.  See 
how  everything  passes  away!  That  poor  boy  was 
the  flower  of  dandyism  ten  years  ago.  But  he  has 
been  so  completely  absorbed  that  you  no  longer 
know  him  any  more  than  Finot  knew,  just  now,  the 
origin  of  the  coup  de  jarnac — it  is  for  the  sake  of  the 
phrase  and  not  in  order  to  tease  you  that  I  say  that, 
Finot! — In   truth,    he    belonged    to    the    Faubourg 

*A  proverbial  expression   in  allusion  to  such    posts  or   offices  as  were 
purchased  with  a  view  to  nobility. 


24  THE  HOUSE  OF  NUCINGEN 

Saint-Germain.  Well,  Beaudenord  is  the  first 
pigeon  that  I  am  going  to  put  on  the  stage  for  you. 
In  the  first  place,  he  called  himself  Godefroid  de 
Beaudenord.  Neither  Finot,  nor  Blondet,  nor 
Couture,  nor  I,  none  of  us,  will  despise  such  an  ad- 
vantage. The  youth  did  not  suffer  in  his  self- 
love  in  hearing  his  domestics  called  when  coming 
out  of  a  ball,  while  thirty  pretty  women,  hooded 
and  flanked  by  their  husbands  and  their  adorers, 
were  waiting  for  their  carriages.  Then  he  was  in 
the  enjoyment  of  all  the  members  which  God  has 
given  to  man, — whole  and  entire,  neither  film  on 
the  eye,  nor  false  wigs,  nor  false  calves;  his  legs 
were  neither  knock-kneed  nor  bowed;  knees  not 
too  prominent,  spinal  column  straight,  figure  slen- 
der, hand  white  and  handsome,  hair  black;  com- 
plexion neither  pink,  like  that  of  a  grocer's  ap- 
prentice, nor  too  brown,  like  that  of  a  Calabrais. 
Finally,  the  essential  thing!  Beaudenord  was  not 
a  too-pretty  man,  as  are  those  of  our  friend  who 
have  the  air  of  making  a  business  of  their  beauty, 
of  not  having  any  other  affair,  but  let  us  not  dwell 
on  that  subject;  we  have  said  it,  it  is  infamous! 
He  was  a  good  shot  with  a  pistol,  a  very  good  eques- 
trian; he  had  fought  for  a  punctilio,  and  had  not 
killed  his  adversary.  Do  you  know  that,  to  por- 
tray that  which  constitutes  an  entire  happiness, 
pure  without  alloy,  in  the  nineteenth  century,  in 
Paris,  and  the  happiness  of  a  young  man  of  twenty- 
six,  it  is  necessary  to  enter  into  the  infinitely 
little  things  of   life?     The   boot-maker  had  quite 


THE  HOUSE  OF  NUCINGEN  25 

compassed  the  foot  of  Beaudenord  and  shod  him  well, 
his  tailor  loved  to  array  him.  Godefroid  did  not 
get  fat,  did  not  gasconnade,  did  not  Norman-ade, 
he  spoke  purely  and  correctly,  and  tied  his  cravat 
exceedingly  well,  like  Finot.  A  cousin  by  marriage 
of  the  Marquis  d'Aiglemont,  his  guardian — he  was 
orphaned  of  both  father  and  mother,  another  happi- 
ness!—he  could  go,  and  did  go,  among  the  bankers, 
without  the  Faubourg  Saint-Germain  reproaching 
him  with  frequenting  them,  for,  fortunately,  a  young 
man  has  the  right  to  make  pleasure  his  only  law,  to 
go  wherever  there  is  amusement,  and  to  flee  the 
sombre  corners  in  which  chagrin  flourishes.  Fin- 
ally, he  had  been  vaccinated — you  understand  me, 
Blondet — .  Despite  all  these  virtues,  he  might  have 
been  able  to  find  himself  very  unhappy.  Eh!  eh! 
happiness  has  the  misfortune  of  appearing  to  signify 
something  absolute;  an  appearance  which  leads  so 
many  simpletons  to  ask:  'What  is  happiness?'  A 
woman  of  much  wit  said:  'Happiness  is  where  one 
puts  it.'" 

"She  proclaimed  a  sad  truth,"  said  Blondet. 

"And  a  moral  one,"  added  Finot. 

"Arch-moral!  HAPPINESS,  like  VIRTUE,  like  EVIL, 
expresses  something  relative,"  replied  Blondet. 
"Thus,  La  Fontaine  hoped  that,  in  course  of  time, 
the  damned  would  become  accustomed  to  their 
situation,  and  would  finish  by  being,  in  Hell,  just 
like  fish  in  the  water." 

"The  grocers  know  all  La  Fontaine's  sayings!" 
said  Bixiou. 


26  THE  HOUSE  OF  NUCINGEN 

"The  happiness  of  a  man  of  twenty-six  who  lives 
at  Paris  is  not  the  happiness  of  a  man  of  twenty- 
six  who  lives  at  Blois, "  said  Blondet,  without  hear- 
ing the  interruption.  "Those  who  start  from  this  to 
rail  against  the  instability  of  opinions  are  either 
knaves  or  ignoramuses.  Modern  medicine,  of  which 
the  finest  title  to  glory  is  in  having,  between  1799 
and  1837,  passed  from  the  state  of  conjecture  to  the 
state  of  a  positive  science,  and  that,  through  the  in- 
fluence of  the  great  analytical  school  of  Paris,  it  has 
demonstrated  that,  in  a  certain  period  of  time,  man 
is  completely  renewed — " 

"After  the  manner  of  Jeannot's  knife,  and  you 
think  him  always  the  same,"  resumed  Bixiou. 
"There  are,  then,  several  lozenges  in  this  harle- 
quin costume  that  we  denominate  happiness;  well, 
the  costume  of  my  Godefroid  had  neither  rents  nor 
spots.  A  young  man  of  twenty-six,  who  would  be 
happy  in  love,  that  is  to  say,  loved,  not  because  of 
the  flower  of  his  youth,  not  for  his  wit,  not  for  his 
appearance,  but  irresistibly,  not  even  because  of 
love  in  himself,  but  even  when  this  love  shall  be 
abstract,  to  return  to  the  phrase  of  Royer-Collard, 
this  aforesaid  young  man  may  well  not  have  even 
a  Hard  in  the  purse  which  the  loving  object  has  em- 
broidered for  him,  he  may  owe  his  rent  to  his  land- 
lord, his  boots  to  the  boot-maker  already  named,  his 
clothes  to  the  tailor,  who  may  finish,  like  France,  by 
becoming  alienated.  In  short,  he  may  be  poor! 
Poverty  spoils  the  happiness  of  the  young  man  who 
does  not  partake  of  our  transcendental  opinions  on 


THE   HOUSE  OF  NUCINGEN  27 

the  community  of  interests.  1  know  of  nothing 
more  wearying  than  to  be  morally  very  happy  and 
materially  very  unhappy.  Is  it  not  to  have  one  leg 
frozen,  as  mine  is,  by  the  draught  that  comes 
through  that  door,  and  the  other  grilled  by  the  hot 
coals  of  the  fire?  I  trust  that  I  make  myself  under- 
stood. Is  there  an  echo  in  the  pocket  of  your  waist- 
coat, Blondet?  Between  ourselves,  let  us  leave  the 
heart,  it  spoils  the  wit.  We  will  proceed.  Gode- 
froid  de  Beaudenord  had,  then,  the  esteem  of  his 
haberdashers,  for  his  haberdashers  received,  with 
sufficient  regularity,  their  payments.  The  woman 
of  a  good  deal  of  wit  already  cited,  and  who  cannot 
be  named,  because,  thanks  to  her  lack  of  heart,  she 
lives — " 

"Who  is  it?" 

"The  Marquise  d'Espard !  She  said  that  a  young 
man  should  live  in  an  entresol,  have  in  his  domicile 
nothing  which  smelt  of  housekeeping,  neither  cook 
nor  kitchen,  be  served  by  an  old  domestic,  and  make 
no  pretension  to  stability.  According  to  her,  any 
other  establishment  would  be  in  bad  taste.  Gode- 
froid  de  Beaudenord,  faithful  to  this  programme, 
lodged  on  the  Quay  Malaquais,  in  an  entresol; 
nevertheless,  he  had  been  obliged  to  have  a  little 
resemblance  to  married  people  by  putting  in  his 
chamber  a  bed,  which,  however,  was  so  narrow  that 
it  made  but  little  difference.  An  Englishwoman 
who  might  have  happened  to  enter  his  lodging, 
would  have  been  able  to  find  nothing  improper 
there.     Finot,  you  will  explain  to  yourself  the  great 


28  THE   HOUSE  OF  NUCINGEN 

law  of  the  improper  which  rules  England!  But, 
since  we  are  united  by  a  note  of  one  thousand,  I  am 
going  to  give  you  an  idea.  I  have  been  in  England, 
I  have" — in  a  low  tone  in  Blondet's  ear:  "I  give 
him  wit  for  more  than  two  thousand  francs. — 
In  England,  Finot,  you  become  extremely  well 
acquainted  with  a  woman,  at  night,  at  a  ball  or 
elsewhere;  you  meet  her  the  next  morning  in  the 
street,  and  you  appear  to  recognize  her:  improper! 
You  find  at  dinner,  under  the  black  coat  of  your 
neighbor  on  your  left,  a  charming  man,  witty,  no 
haughtiness,  an  easy  freedom ;  he  has  nothing  of 
the  English;  following  the  ancient  laws  of  French 
society,  so  flexible,  so  courteous,  you  speak  to  him : 
improper!  You  accost  a  pretty  woman  at  a  ball  to 
ask  her  to  dance:  improper!  You  warm  up,  you 
discuss,  you  laugh,  you  expand  your  heart,  your 
soul,  your  spirit  in  your  conversation;  you  express 
in  it  feeling;  you  play  when  you  are  at  play,  you 
talk  in  talking  and  you  eat  in  eating:  improper! 
improper!  improper!  One  of  the  most  spiritual  and 
most  profound  men  of  this  epoch,  Stendhal,  has  very 
well  characterized  the  improper  in  saying  that  there 
is  a  certain  lord  of  Great  Britain  who,  when  alone, 
dares  not  cross  his  legs  before  his  own  fire,  for 
fear  of  being  improper.  An  English  lady,  were  she 
of  the  furious  sect  of  the  saints — double-dyed  Protest- 
ants who  would  let  all  their  family  die  of  hunger 
rather  than  be  improper — would  not  be  improper  in 
making  the  devil  of  an  ado  in  her  bed-chamber,  and 
would  consider  herself  lost  if  she  received  a  friend 


THE  HOUSE  OF  NUCINGEN  29 

in  this  same  chamber.  Thanks  to  the  improper, 
some  day  London  and  all  its  inhabitants  will  be 
found  petrified." 

"When  one  thinks  that  there  are  in  France  sim- 
pletons who  wish  to  import  here  the  solemn  stu- 
pidities which  the  English  commit  at  home  with 
that  fine  complacency  which  you  see  in  them,"  said 
Blondet,  "it  is  enough  to  make  anyone  shudder  who 
has  seen  England  and  who  thinks  of  the  graceful 
and  charming  French  manners.  In  his  later  years, 
Walter  Scott,  who  did  not  dare  to  paint  women  as 
they  are,  for  fear  of  being  improper,  repented  of  hav- 
ing drawn  the  charming  figure  of  Effie  in  the  Prison 
of  Edinburgh." 

"Would  you  like  to  know  how  not  to  be  improper 
in  England?"  said  Bixiou  to  Finot. 

"Well?"  said  Finot. 

"Go  to  the  Tuileries  and  see  a  species  of  fireman 
in  marble  entitled  Themistocles  by  the  statuary, 
and  endeavor  to  walk  like  the  statue  of  the  com- 
mander; you  will  never  be  improper.  It  was  by 
a  rigorous  application  of  the  great  law  of  the 
improper  that  the  happiness  of  Godefroid  was  com- 
pleted. This  is  the  story:  He  had  a  tiger,  and 
not  a  groom,  as  those  people  who  know  nothing 
about  the  world  write.  His  tiger  was  a  little  Irish- 
man, named  Paddy,  Joby,  Toby— at  will—,  three 
feet  high,  twenty  inches  wide,  with  the  face  of  a 
weasel,  nerves  of  steel,  made  by  gin,  active  as  a 
squirrel,  managing  a  landau  with  a  skill  which  was 
never  found  in  default,  neither  in  London  nor  in 


30  THE  HOUSE  OF  NUCINGEN 

Paris;  the  eye  of  a  lizard,  fine  as  mine,  mounting  a 
horse  like  the  old  Franconi,  hair  as  blond  as  that 
of  a  Virgin  by  Rubens,  pink  cheeks,  dissembling  as 
a  prince,  learned  as  a  retired  lawyer,  aged  ten 
years,  in  short  a  true  flower  of  perversity,  swear- 
ing and  playing,  loving  jam  and  punch,  insulting  as 
a  newspaper,  bold  and  pilfering  as  a  gamin  of 
Paris.  He  had  been  the  honor  and  the  profit  of  a 
celebrated  English  lord,  for  whom  he  had  gained 
seven  hundred  thousand  francs  on  the  race-course. 
The  lord  prized  very  highly  this  infant:  his  tiger 
was  a  curiosity,  no  one  in  London  had  a  tiger  so 
little.  Mounted  on  a  race  horse,  Joby  looked  like 
a  falcon.  Well,  the  lord  dismissed  Toby,  not  for 
gluttony,  nor  for  theft,  nor  for  murder,  nor  for 
criminal  conversation,  nor  for  failure  in  style,  nor 
for  insolence  to  milady,  nor  for  having  made  holes 
in  the  pocket  of  milady's  first  maid,  nor  for  having 
been  bribed  by  milord's  adversaries  at  the  races, 
nor  for  having  amused  himself  on  Sunday,  in  short, 
for  no  reproachable  act.  Toby  might  have  done  all 
these  things,  he  might  even  have  spoken  to  milord 
without  being  questioned,  milord  would  again  have 
pardoned  this  domestic  crime.  Milord  would  have 
endured  a  great  many  things  for  Toby,  so  much 
milord  was  attached  to  him.  His  tiger  could  handle 
a  two-wheeled  carriage,  tandem,  mounted  in  the 
saddle  of  the  rear  horse,  his  legs  not  reaching  below 
the  shafts,  having  the  appearance  in  fact  of  one  of 
those  heads  of  cherubs  which  the  Italian  painters 
scatter  around   the   Eternal    Father.      An   English 


THE   HOUSE  OF  NUCINGEN  31 

journalist  made  a  delicious  description  of  this  little 
angel.  He  found  him  too  pretty  for  a  tiger;  he 
offered  to  bet  that  Paddy  was  a  tamed  tigress.  The 
description  threatened  to  envenom  and  to  become 
in  the  highest  degree  improper.  The  superlative  of 
the  improper  leads  to  the  gallows.  Milord  was  much 
praised  for  his  circumspection  by  milady.  Toby 
could  not  find  any  other  situation,  after  having  his 
civil  status  thus  contested  in  the  Britannic  Zoology. 
At  this  period  Godefroid  was  flourishing  at  the 
French  embassy  in  London,  where  he  heard  of  the 
adventure  of  Toby,  Joby,  Paddy.  Godefroid  took 
possession  of  the  tiger,  whom  he  found  weeping  be- 
side a  pot  of  jam,  for  the  infant  had  already  lost  the 
guineas  with  which  milord  had  gilded  his  misfortune. 
On  his  return,  Godefroid  de  Beaudenord  then  im- 
ported amongst  us  the  most  charming  tiger  of  Eng- 
land; he  was  known  by  his  tiger  as  Couture  attracts 
attention  by  his  waistcoats.  Thus  he  entered  with 
facility  into  the  confederation  of  the  club  called 
to-day  De  Grammont.  He  did  not  disturb  any  ambi- 
tion after  having  renounced  the  diplomatic  career; 
he  had  not  a  dangerous  spirit,  he  was  well  received 
by  everybody.  We  others,  we  would  be  offended 
in  our  self-love  if  we  encountered  only  smiling  faces. 
We  are  pleased  to  see  the  bitter  grimace  of  the  en- 
vious. Godefroid  did  not  love  to  be  hated.  Every- 
one to  his  taste !  Let  us  get  to  the  solid  facts,  to  the 
material  life.  His  apartment,  in  which  I  have  dis- 
cussed more  than  one  dejeuner,  recommended  itself 
by  a  mysterious  dressing-room,  well  ornamented, 


32  THE  HOUSE  OF  NUCINGEN 

full  of  comfortable  things,  with  a  fire-place,  with 
a  bath-tub;  opening  on  a  little  stairway,  fold- 
ing-doors that  made  no  noise,  easy  locks,  discreet 
hinges,  windows  of  ground  glass  with  impassable 
curtains.  If  the  chamber  offered  and  should  have 
offered  the  very  finest  disorder  that  the  most  exact- 
ing water-color  painter  could  have  desired,  if  every- 
thing in  it  exhaled  the  Bohemian  charm  of  the  life 
of  an  elegant  young  man,  the  dressing-room  was 
like  a  sanctuary, — white,  clean,  well-ordered,  warm, 
no  draughts,  a  carpet  made  for  alighting  on  in 
naked  feet,  in  one's  chemise,  affrighted.  There 
could  be  found  the  signature  of  the  young  man,  a 
real  beau  and  one  who  knows  life!  for  there  during 
several  minutes  he  may  reveal  himself  either 
imbecile  or  great  in  those  little  details  of  existence 
which  betray  character.  The  marquise  already 
cited,  no,  it  was  the  Marquise  de  Rochefide,  issued 
furious  from  this  dressing-room  and  never  returned 
there;  she  found  in  it  nothing  improper.  Godefroid 
had  there  a  little  cupboard  full — " 

"Of  night-shirts?"  said  Finot. 

"Come  now,  there  you  are,  you  gross  Turcaret! 
— I  shall  never  be  able  to  make  anything  of  him ! — 
Not  at  all, — of  cakes,  of  fruit,  of  pretty  little  flasks  of 
Malaga  wine,  of  Lunel,  a  little  refection  a  la  Louis 
XIV.,  all  that  could  amuse  delicate  and  well-educated 
stomachs,  the  stomachs  of  sixteen  quarterings.  A 
malicious  old  domestic,  very  strong  in  the  veter- 
inary art,  looked  after  the  horses  and  waited  on 
Godefroid,  for  he  had  been  in  the  service  of  the  late 


THE  HOUSE  OF  NUCINGEN  33 

Monsieur  Beaudenord,  and  had  for  Godefroid  an 
inveterate  affection,  that  malady  of  the  heart  which 
the  savings  banks  have  ended,  by  curing,  for  all 
servants.  All  material  happiness  reposes  on  figures. 
You,  to  whom  Parisian  life  is  known  even  to  its 
exostosis,  you  will  understand  that  he  required  about 
seventeen  thousand  francs  of  income,  for  he  had 
seventeen  francs  of  imposts  and  a  thousand  ecus  of 
fancies.  Well,  my  dear  infants,  the  day  on  which 
he  attained  his  majority  the  Marquis  d'Aiglemont 
presented  him  with  the  accounts  of  his  stewardship, 
such  as  we  should  not  be  able  to  render  to  our 
nephews,  and  handed  to  him  his  statement  of  eigh- 
teen thousand  francs  of  income  from  investments  in 
the  public  funds,  the  remnants  of  the  paternal  opu- 
lence, somewhat  mauled  by  the  great  Republican 
reduction  and  riddled  by  the  arrears  of  the  Empire. 
This  virtuous  guardian  put  into  his  pupil's  hands 
some  thirty  thousand  francs  of  savings  placed  in 
the  house  of  Nucingen,  saying  to  him,  with  all  the 
courtesy  of  a  grand  seigneur  and  the  easy  freedom 
of  a  soldier  of  the  Empire,  that  he  had  saved  this 
sum  for  his  youthful  follies.  'If  you  will  listen  to 
me,  Godefroid,'  he  added,  'instead  of  expending  this 
sottishly,  like  so  many  others,  practice  some  useful 
follies,  accept  a  post  as  attache  to  the  embassy  at 
Turin,  from  there  go  to  Naples,  from  Naples  to  Lon- 
don, and  for  your  money  you  will  be  amused, 
instructed.  Later,  if  you  wish  to  adopt  a  career, 
you  will  have  lost  neither  your  time  nor  your 
money.'  The  late  D'Aiglemont  quite  deserved  his 
3 


34  THE  HOUSE  OF  NUCINGEN 

reputation;  no  one  will  be  able  to  say  as  much 
of  us." 

"A  young  man  who  starts  life  at  twenty-one  with 
eighteen  thousand  francs  of  income  is  a  young  man 
ruined,"  said  Couture. 

"If  he  is  not  avaricious,  or  very  superior, "  said 
Blondet. 

"Godefroid  sojourned  awhile  in  the  four  capitals 
of  Italy,"  resumed  Bixiou.  "He  saw  Germany  and 
England,  a  little  of  St.  Petersburg,  traversed  Hol- 
land; but  he  separated  himself  from  the  aforesaid 
thirty  thousand  francs  by  living  as  if  he  had  thirty 
thousand  francs  of  income.  He  found  everywhere 
'the  best  part  of  the  fowl,  jellied  meats,'  and  'the 
wines  of  France,'  heard  French  spoken  everywhere, 
in  fact  he  was  not  able  to  get  out  of  Paris.  He 
would  have  been  quite  willing  to  have  depraved  his 
heart,  to  have  put  it  in  a  cuirass,  to  have  lost  his 
illusions,  to  have  learned  to  hear  everything  with- 
out blushing,  to  talk  without  saying  anything,  to 
penetrate  the  secret  interests  of  the  powers. — Bah! 
it  was  scarcely  worth  his  while  to  furnish  himself 
with  four  languages,  that  is  to  say,  to  provide  him- 
self with  four  words  for  one  idea.  He  returned 
widowed  of  several  very  tedious  dowagers,  called 
good  fortunes,  abroad,  timid  and  scarcely  formed,  a 
good  fellow,  full  of  confidence,  incapable  of  speak- 
ing evil  of  those  who  did  him  the  honor  to  admit 
him  to  their  houses,  having  too  much  good  faith 
to  be  a  diplomat,  in  short,  what  we  call  an  honest 
fellow." 


THE  HOUSE  OF  NUCINGEN  35 

"In  short,  a  brat  who  held  his  eighteen  thousand 
francs  of  income  for  the  first  investment  that  should 
come  along,"  said  Couture. 

"This  devil  of  a  Couture  is  so  much  in  the  habit 
of  anticipating  his  dividends  that  he  anticipates  the 
denouement   of   my    history.     Where   was    I  ?     At 
Beaudenord's  return.     When  he  was  installed  in  the 
Quay  Malaquais,  he  found  that  a  thousand  francs 
above  his  needs  were  insufficient  for  his  box  at  the 
Italiens  and  at  the  Opera.     When  he  lost  twenty- 
five  or  thirty  louis  at  play  in  betting,  naturally  he 
paid;  then,   he   spent  them  when  he  won,   which 
always  happens  to  us   if  we  are  stupid  enough  to 
allow  ourselves  to  take  to  betting.      Beaudenord, 
cramped  in  his  eighteen  thousand  francs  of  income, 
felt  the  necessity  of  creating  that  which  we  call  to- 
day funds  for  running  expenses.      He   was    quite 
resolved  not  to  get  himself  in  too  deep.     He  went 
to   consult   his   guardian:     'My   dear   child,'    said 
D'Aiglemont  to  him,  'Rentes  are  at  par,  sell  your 
Rentes;  I    have  sold  mine  and  those  of  my  wife. 
Nucingen  has  all  my  capital,  and  gives  me  for  it  six 
percent;  do  like  me,  you  will  have  one  per  cent  the 
more,  and  this  one  per  cent  will  permit  you  to  be 
perfectly  comfortable.'    In  three  days  our  Godefroid 
was  quite  comfortable.     His  revenues  were  in  a 
state  of  perfect  equilibrium  with   his  superfluous- 
ness,  his  material  happiness  was  complete.     If  it 
were  possible  to  interrogate  all  the  young  people  of 
Paris  with  one  glance,  as  it  appears  will  be  done  at 
the  time  of  the  last  judgment   for  the  billions  of 


36  THE   HOUSE  OF  NUCINGEN 

generations  which  have  splashed  about  on  all  the 
worlds,  as  National  Guards  or  as  savages,  and  to 
demand  of  them  if  the  happiness  of  a  young  man 
of  twenty-six  did  not  consist  in  being  able  to  go 
out  on  horseback,  in  a  tilbury,  or  in  a  cabriolet 
with  a  tiger  as  big  as  your  fist,  fresh  and  rosy  as 
Toby,  Joby,  Paddy ;  to  have  in  the  evening  for 
twelve  francs  a  very  convenient  coupe  to  hire;  to 
show  oneself  elegantly  gotten  up  according  to  the 
laws  of  apparel  which  regulate  eight  o'clock,  noon, 
four  o'clock,  and  the  evening;  to  be  well  received 
in  all  the  embassies,  and  to  gather  there  the  ephem- 
eral flowers  of  cosmopolitan  and  superficial  friend- 
ships; to  be  of  a  supportable  beauty,  and  to  carry 
well  one's  name,  one's  coat  and  one's  head;  to  live 
in  a  charming  little  entresol  arranged  as  1  have  told 
you  was  the  entresol  of  the  Quay  Malaquais;  to  be 
able  to  invite  your  friends  to  accompany  you  to  the 
Roc  her  de  Cancale  without  having  to  previously  in- 
terrogate one's  pocket,  and  not  to  be  arrested  in 
every  reasonable  movement  by  this  word,  'but  how 
about  the  money?'  to  be  able  to  renew  the  pink 
tufts  which  ornament  the  ears  of  one's  three  thor- 
oughbred horses,  and  to  have  always  a  new  lining 
to  one's  hat?  Everybody,  ourselves,  superior  per- 
sons, all  would  reply  that  this  happiness  is  incom- 
plete, that  it  is  the  Madeleine  without  an  altar,  that 
it  is  necessary  to  love  and  be  loved,  or  to  love  with- 
out being  loved,  or  to  be  loved  without  loving,  or  to 
be  able  to  love  through  thick  and  thin.  We  will 
arrive  at  the  moral  happiness.     When,  in  January, 


THE   HOUSE  OF  NUCINGEN  37 

1823,  he  found  himself  comfortably  settled  in  all  his 
enjoyments,  after  having  established  his  footing  in 
all  the  different  Parisian  societies  in  which  it  pleased 
him  to  go,  he  felt  the  necessity  of  putting  himself 
under  the  shelter  of  a  parasol,  of  being  able  to  com- 
plain to  some  woman  comme  il  fant,  of  not  having 
to  chew  the  stem  of  a  rose  bought  for  ten  sous  from 
Madame  Prevost,  after  the  fashion  of  the  little  young 
people  who  cluck  in  the  corridors  of  the  Opera 
House,  like  pullets  in  a  chicken-house.  In  short,  he 
resolved  to  carry  all  his  sentiments,  his  ideas,  his 
affections  to  a  woman,  a  woman!  LA  PHAMME !  Ah ! 
—He  conceived  at  first  the  absurd  idea  of  having 
an  unhappy  passion,  he  hovered  for  some  time 
around  his  charming  cousin,  Madame  d'Aiglemont, 
without  perceiving  that  a  diplomatist  had  already 
danced  the  waltz  of  'Faust'  with  her.  The  year  '25 
passed  in  essays,  in  researches,  in  useless  flirta- 
tions. The  loving  object  demanded  did  not  present 
itself.  Passions  are  extremely  rare.  At  this  epoch, 
there  were  set  up  as  many  barricades  in  manners  as 
in  the  streets!  Verily,  my  brethren,  I  say  to  you 
the  improper  is  overcoming  us!  As  we  have  been 
reproached  with  imitating  the  method  of  the  paint- 
ers of  portraits,  of  the  auctioneers  and  of  the 
dressmakers,  I  will  not  make  you  undergo  the  de- 
scription of  the  person  in  whom  Godefroid  recog- 
nized his  female.  Aged  nineteen  years ;  stature  one 
metre  fifty  centimetres;  blond  hair,  eyebrows  idem, 
eyes  blue,  forehead  medium,  nose  arched,  mouth 
small,  chin  short  and  high,  visage  oval;  particular 


189964 


38  THE   HOUSE  OF  NUCINGEN 

indications,  none.  Such  was  the  passport  of  the  loved 
object.  Do  not  be  more  hard  to  please  than  the 
police,  than  Messieurs  the  mayors  of  all  the  towns 
and  communes  of  France,  than  the  gendarmes  and 
other  constituted  authorities.  Moreover,  this  is  the 
block  of  the  Venus  de  Medici,  word  of  honor.  The 
first  time  that  Godefroid  went  to  the  house  of 
Madame  de  Nucingen,  who  had  invited  him  to  one  of 
those  balls  by  which  she  acquired,  at  a  reasonable 
price,  a  certain  reputation,  he  perceived  there,  in  a 
quadrille,  the  person  to  love  and  was  astonished 
by  this  figure  of  a  metre  and  fifty  centimetres. 
These  blond  locks  flowed  in  rippling  cascades  on  a 
little  head  ingenuous  and  fresh  as  that  of  a  naiad 
who  had  put  her  nose  out  of  the  crystalline  window 
of  her  stream  to  see  the  flowers  of  Spring. — This  is 
our  new  style,  phrases  which  spin  themselves  out 
as  our  macaroni  did  just  now. — The  idem  of  the 
eyebrows,  without  offence  to  the  prefecture  of 
police,  might  have  demanded  six  verses  from  the 
amiable  Parny ;  that  playful  poet  would  have  com- 
pared them  very  agreeably  to  Cupid's  bow,  observ- 
ing that  the  dart  was  below,  but  a  dart  without 
force,  a  blunted  dart,  for  there  reigns  there  still  to- 
day the  sheep-like  softness  which  the  chimney- 
panels  attribute  to  Mademoiselle  de  la  Valliere,  at  the 
moment  when  she  bore  witness  to  her  tenderness  be- 
fore God,  through  lack  of  being  able  to  bear  witness 
before  a  notary.  You  know  the  effect  of  these 
blond  locks  and  blue  eyes,  in  combination  with  a 
dance,  soft,  voluptuous,  and  decent?     Such  a  young 


THE   HOUSE  OF  NUCINGEN  39 

person  does  not  strike  you  at  first  audaciously  to 
the  heart,  like  those  brunettes  who  by  their  glance 
have  the  air  of  saying  to  you,  like  Spanish  beggars: 
'Your  purse  or  your  life!  Five  francs  or  I  scorn 
you.'  These  insolent  beauties — and  somewhat  dan- 
gerous!—may  be  able  to  please  many  men;  but 
according  to  me,  the  blond  who  has  the  happiness 
of  appearing  excessively  tender  and  yielding,  with- 
out losing  her  right  of  remonstrance,  of  teasing,  of 
immoderate  discourses,  of  unfounded  jealousy  and 
all  that  which  renders  woman  adorable,  will  be 
always  more  certain  of  marriage  than  the  ardent 
brunette.  Wood  is  dear.  Isaure,  white  as  an 
Alsatian— she  had  first  seen  the  day  at  Strasbourg 
and  spoke  German  with  a  very  agreeable  little 
French  accent — ,  danced  marvelously.  Her  feet, 
which  the  police  employe  had  not  mentioned  and 
which,  however,  might  find  their  place  under  the 
rubric  particular  indications,  were  remarkable  for 
their  smallness,  for  that  peculiar  action  which  the 
old  masters  denominated  flic  flac,  and  comparable  to 
the  agreeable  recitative  of  Mademoiselle  Mars,  for  all 
Muses  are  sisters,  the  dancer  and  the  poet  alike 
have  their  feet  on  the  earth.  The  feet  of  Isaure 
conversed  with  a  clearness,  a  precision,  a  lightness, 
a  rapidity  of  excellent  augury  for  the  things  of  the 
heart.  'She  has  the  flic  flac,'  was  the  supreme 
eulogy  of  Marcel,  the  only  dancing-master  who  has 
merited  the  title  of  great.  He  was  called  the  great 
Marcel,  like  the  great  Frederick,  and  of  the  times  of 
Frederick." 


40  THE  HOUSE  OF  NUCINGEN 

"Did  he  compose  ballets?"  asked  Finot. 

"Yes,  something  like  'The  Four  Elements,' 
'Gallant  Europe.'  " 

"What  a  period,"  said  Finot;  "like  the  times 
in  which  the  grand  seigneurs  dressed  the  danseuses. " 

"Improper!"  resumed  Bixiou.  "Isaure  did  not 
raise  herself  on  her  toes,  she  remained  upon  the 
earth,  she  balanced  herself  without  shaking,  neither 
more  nor  less  voluptuously  than  a  young  person 
should  balance  herself.  Marcel  said,  with  profound 
philosophy,  that  each  state  had  its  peculiar  dance, 
—a  married  woman  should  dance  in  a  different  fash- 
ion from  a  young  person,  a  limb  of  the  law  other- 
wise than  a  financier,  and  a  military  man  otherwise 
than  a  page ;  he  went  so  far  as  to  pretend  that  a  foot 
soldier  should  dance  in  a  different  way  than  a 
cavalryman :  and  from  this  he  set  out  to  analyze  the 
whole  of  society.  All  these  fine  shades  are  quite 
out  of  our  line." 

"Ah!"  said  Blondet,  "you  put  your  finger  on  a 
great  misfortune.  If  Marcel  had  been  compre- 
hended, the  French  Revolution  would  never  have 
taken  place." 

"Godefroid,"  resumed  Bixiou,  "had  not  had  the 
advantage  of  traversing  Europe  without  observing 
foreign  dances  closely.  Without  that  profound 
knowledge  of  choregraphy,  which  is  qualified  as 
futile,  perhaps  he  would  not  have  loved  this  young 
person ;  but  of  the  three  hundred  guests  who 
crowded  the  handsome  salons  of  the  Rue  Saint- 
Lazare,  he  was  the  only  one  to   comprehend   the 


THE   HOUSE  OF  NUCINGEN  41 

unpublished  love  which  is  betrayed  by  a  talkative 
dance.  There  were  many  who  noticed  the  manner 
of  Isaure  d'Aldrigger;  but,  in  that  century  in  which 
everyone  cries:  'Slide,  do  not  bear  on!'  one  said: 
'there  is  a  young  girl  who  dances  famously  well' 
— this  was  a  notary's  clerk — ;  another,  'there  is  a 
young  person  who  dances  ravishingly' — this  was  a 
lady  in  a  turban—;  the  third,  a  woman  of  thirty: 
'there  is  a  young  person  who  does  not  dance  badly !' 
Let  us  return  to  the  great  Marcel,  and  say,  parody- 
ing his  most  famous  saying:  'how  many  things  in  a 
forward-two!'  " 

"And  let  us  get  on  a  little  faster!"  said  Blondet. 
"You  are  sentimentalizing." 

"Isaure,"  resumed  Bixiou,  who  looked  at  Blondet 
askance,  "had  a  simple  dress  of  white  crepe  orna- 
mented with  green  ribbons,  a  camelia  in  her  hair, 
a  camelia  at  her  waist,  another  camelia  at  the  bot- 
tom of  her  dress,  and  a  camelia — " 

"Oh!  come  on;  here  are  the  three  hundred  goats 
of  Sancho!" 

"It  is  like  all  literature,  my  dear  fellow.  'Clar- 
issa' is  a  masterpiece,  there  are  fourteen  volumes, 
and  the  dullest  vaudevillist  will  recount  it  to  you 
in  an  act.  So  long  as  I  amuse  you,  of  what  do  you 
complain?  This  toilet  had  a  delicious  effect.  Do 
you  not  love  camelias?  would  you  like  to  have 
dahlias?  No.  Well,  then,  a  chestnut,  here!"  said 
Bixiou,  who  doubtless  threw  a  chestnut  at  Blondet, 
for  we  heard  the  noise  on  a  plate. 

"Go  on,  I  was  wrong;  continue!"  said  Blondet. 


42  THE   HOUSE  OF  NUCINGEN 

"I  resume,"  said  Bixiou.    '"Would  it  not  be  nice 
to  marry?'     said    Rastignac  to  Beaudenord,    indi- 
cating to  him  the  little  one  with  the  white  camelias, 
pure  and  without  a  leaf  missing.     Rastignac  was 
one  of  the  intimate  friends  of  Godefroid.  'Eh!  well, 
I  was  thinking  of  it,'  replied  Godefroid  in  his  ear. 
'I  was  saying  to  myself  that,  instead  of  trembling 
at  each   moment  in   his  happiness,  of  only   being 
able  to  utter  occasionally  a  word  in  an  inattentive 
ear,  of  looking,  at  the  Italiens,  to  see  if  there  were  a 
red  or  a  white  flower  in  a  coiffure,   if  there  were 
at  the  Bois  a  gloved  hand  on  the  panel  of  a  carriage, 
as  is  done  at  Milan,  on  the  Corso;  that  instead  of 
stealing  a  mouthful  of  sweetness  behind  a  door,  like 
a  lackey  who  finishes  a  bottle  ;  of  using  all  his  intel- 
ligence to  give  and  to  receive  a  letter,  like  a  post- 
man;  that  instead  of  receiving  infinite  tendernesses 
in  two  lines,  of  having  five  volumes  in  folio  to  read 
to-day,  to-morrow  a  pamphlet  of  two  pages,  which 
is  fatiguing;  that  instead  of  dragging  one's  self  along 
the  ruts  and  behind  the  hedges,  it  would  be  much 
better  to  give  one's  self  up  to  the  adorable  passion 
envied  by  Jean-Jacques  Rousseau,  to  love  quite  hon- 
estly a  young  person  like  Isaure,  with  the  intention 
of  making  her  his  wife  if,  during  the  exchange  of 
feelings,  the  hearts  should  come  to  an  agreement, 
in  short,  to  be  Werther  happy !'— 'That  is  just  as 
absurd  as  anything  else,'  said  Rastignac,  without 
laughing.     'In  your  place,  perhaps,  I  would  throw 
myself  into  the  infinite  delights  of  this  asceticism; 
it  is  new,  original  and  not  costly.     Your  Mona  Lisa 


THE   HOUSE  OF  NUCINGEN  43 

is  sweet  and  soft,  but  simple  as  ballet  music,  I  fore- 
warn you. '  The  manner  in  which  Rastignac  uttered 
this  last  phrase  suggested  to  Beaudenord  that  his 
friend  had  some  interest  in  disenchanting  him,  and 
he  believed  him  his  rival  in  his  quality  of  a  former 
diplomat.  The  professions  that  have  failed  often  color 
a  whole  lifetime.  Godefroid  became  so  enamored 
of  Mademoiselle  Isaure  d'Aldrigger,  that  Rastignac 
went  in  search  of  a  tall  girl  who  was  conversing  in 
the  card-room,  and  whispered  to  her:  'Malvina, 
your  sister  has  just  caught  in  her  net  a  fish  that 
weighs  eighteen  thousand  francs  of  income;  he  has 
a  name,  a  certain  place  in  the  world  and  very  good 
style;  watch  over  them;  if  they  should  spin  out  the 
perfect  love,  have  a  care  to  be  Isaure's  confidante  in 
order  that  she  may  not  reply  a  single  word  which 
you  have  not  corrected.'  Toward  two  o'clock  in 
the  morning  the  valet  de  chambre  came  to  say  to  a 
little  Alpine  shepherdess,  forty  years  old,  coquet- 
tish as  the  Zerlina  of  the  opera  of  'Don  Juan,'  and 
under  whose  charge  was  Isaure:  'the  carriage  of 
Madame  la  Baronne  is  at  the  door.'  Godefroid  then 
saw  his  beauty  of  the  German  ballad  conducting  her 
fantastic  mother  into  the  salon  of  departure,  where 
these  two  ladies  were  followed  by  Malvina.  Gode- 
froid, who  pretended — the  infant! — to  be  going  to  see 
in  what  pot  of  jam  Joby  had  lost  himself,  had  the 
happiness  of  perceiving  Isaure  and  Malvina  envel- 
oping their  sprightly  mamma  in  her  pelisse,  render- 
ing her  all  those  little  cares  of  the  toilet  required  for 
a  nocturnal  journey   in   Paris.       The   two   sisters 


44  THE   HOUSE  OF  NUCINGEN 

examined  him  out  of  the  corners  of  their  eyes  like 
well-trained  cats,  who  watch  a  mouse  without 
appearing  to  pay  any  attention  to  it.  He  experi- 
enced a  certain  satisfaction  in  seeing  the  style,  the 
appearance,  the  manners,  of  the  big  Alsatian  in 
livery,  very  well  gloved,  who  brought  the  comfort- 
able furred  slippers  to  his  three  mistresses.  Never 
were  two  sisters  more  unlike  than  were  Isaure  and 
Malvina.  The  elder,  tall  and  brunette,  Isaure  petite 
and  blonde;  this  one  with  fine  and  delicate  features; 
the  other  much  more  vigorous  and  pronounced; 
Isaure  was  the  woman  who  rules  by  her  lack  of 
strength  and  whom  a  lyceum  student  would  have 
felt  himself  called  upon  to  protect;  Malvina  was  the 
woman  of  'Ave^-vous  vu  dans  Barcelone?'  By  the 
side  of  her  sister,  Isaure  had  the  effect  of  a  minia- 
ture in  contrast  with  a  portrait  in  oil.  'She  is  rich !' 
said  Godefroid  to  Rastignac  returning  to  the 
ball. — 'Who?' — 'That  young  person.' — 'Ah!  Isaure 
d'Aldrigger!  Why,  yes.  The  mother  is  a  widow; 
her  husband  had  employed  Nucingen  in  his  offices 
at  Strasbourg.  Should  you  like  to  see  her  again, 
turn  off  a  compliment  to  Madame  de  Restaud,  who 
gives  a  ball  the  day  after  to-morrow;  the  Baronne 
d'Aldrigger  and  her  two  daughters  will  be  there; 
you  will  get  an  invitation!'  For  three  days,  in  the 
camera  obscura  of  his  brain,  Godefroid  saw  his 
Isaure  and  the  white  camelias,  and  the  little  move- 
ments of  her  head,  just  as  when,  after  having  long 
contemplated  an  object  brilliantly  lighted,  we  see  it 
again  when  our  eyes  are  shut,  in  a  smaller  form, 


THE  HOUSE  OF  NUCINGEN  45 

radiant  and  colored,  sparkling  in  the  midst  of  the 
obscurity." 

"Bixiou,   you   are   falling  into  phenomena;  pull 
your  picture  together  more!"  said  Couture. 

"Here  you  are !"  resumed  Bixiou,  assuming  doubt- 
less, the  attitude  of  a  waiter,  "here,  messieurs,  is 
your  picture!  Attention,  Finot!  you  will  have  to 
pull  at  your  mouth  as  a  cab-driver  does  at  that 
of  his  old  horse!  Madame  Theodora-Marguerite- 
Wilhelmine  Adolphus — of  the  house  of  Adolphus  & 
Co.,  Mannheim— widow  of  the  Baron  d'Aldrigger, 
was  not  a  good,  fat  German  woman,  compact  and 
deliberate,  fair-skinned,  with  a  face  gilded  like  the 
froth  of  a  pot  of  beer,  enriched  with  all  the  patri- 
archal virtues  which  Germany  possesses,  romantic- 
ally speaking.  Her  cheeks  were  still  fresh,  colored 
on  the  cheek-bones  like  those  of  a  Nuremburg  doll, 
very  sprightly  corkscrew  curls  at  her  temples, 
enticing  eyes,  not  a  single  white  hair,  a  slender 
figure  whose  pretensions  were  set  forth  by  tight- 
fitting  dresses.  She  had  on  the  forehead  and  on  the 
temples  some  involuntary  wrinkles  which  she  would 
have  very  willingly,  like  Ninon,  banished  to  her 
heels;  but  the  wrinkles  persisted  in  designing  their 
zigzags  in  the  most  visible  localities.  The  outline 
of  her  nose  was  drooping  a  little  and  the  end  red- 
dening, which  was  all  the  more  embarrassing  that 
the  nose  thus  came  into  harmony  with  the  color  of 
the  cheeks.  In  her  quality  of  sole  heiress,  spoiled 
by  her  parents,  spoiled  by  her  husband,  spoiled  by 
the  city  of  Strasbourg,  and  always  spoiled  by  her 


46  THE  HOUSE   OF  NUCINGEN 

two  daughters,  who  adored  her,  the  baroness  fav- 
ored pink,  wore  short  skirts,  and  the  bow  at 
the  point  of  the  corset  which  defined  her  figure. 
When  a  Parisian  saw  this  baroness  passing  on  the 
Boulevard,  he  smiled;  he  condemned  her  without 
admitting,  as  the  jury  always  does,  the  extenuating 
circumstances  in  a  fratricide !  The  scoffer  is  always 
a  superficial  being  and  consequently  a  cruel  one ;  the 
knave  never  takes  into  account  that  for  which  soci- 
ety is  responsible  in  the  absurdity  at  which  he 
laughs,  for  nature  only  made  beasts;  we  owe  the 
dolt  to  the  social  state." 

"That  which  I  find  so  fine  in  Bixiou,"  said 
Blondet,  "is  that  he  is  complete;  when  he  is  not 
railing  at  others,  he  is  laughing  at  himself." 

"Blondet,  I  will  be  even  with  you  for  that,"  said 
Bixiou,  in  a  shrewd  tone.  "If  this  baroness  was 
giddy,  careless,  egotistical,  incapable  of  reflection, 
the  responsibility  of  her  defects  all  fell  upon  the 
house  of  Adolphus  &  Co.,  of  Mannheim,  on  the  blind 
love  of  the  Baron  d'Aldrigger.  Soft  as  a  lamb, 
this  baroness  had  a  tender  heart,  easy  to  move,  but, 
unluckily  the  emotion  was  of  short  duration  and  con- 
sequently was  often  renewed.  When  the  baron 
died,  this  shepherdess  all  but  followed  him,  so 
violent  and  real  was  her  grief;  but — the  next  day, 
at  dejeuner,  she  was  served  with  French  peas, 
which  she  loved,  and  these  delicious  petits  pois 
calmed  the  crisis.  She  was  so  blindly  loved  by 
her  two  daughters,  by  her  servants,  that  all  the 
household    was    happy   at   a   circumstance   which 


THE   HOUSE   OF  NUCINGEN  47 

enabled  them  to  prevent  her  from  seeing  the  dolor- 
ous spectacle  of  the  funeral.  Isaure  and  Malvina 
hid  their  tears  from  this  adored  mother,  and  occu- 
pied her  in  selecting  her  mourning,  in  ordering  it 
whilst  the  Requiem  was  sung.  When  a  coffin  is 
placed  under  that  great  catafalque  black  and  white, 
spotted  with  wax  drippings,  which  served  for 
three  thousand  corpses  of  well-to-do  people  before 
being  renewed,  according  to  the  estimate  of  a  phil- 
osophic undertaker's  man  whom  1  consulted  on  this 
point,  between  two  glasses  of  petit  blanc ;  when  the 
inferior  clergy,  very  indifferent,  bawl  the  Dies  irce, 
when  the  superior  clergy,  equally  indifferent,  sing 
the  Office,  do  you  know  what  the  friends  in  mourn- 
ing, seated  or  standing  about  in  the  church,  say  to 
each  other?— Here  is  your  picture. — Well,  would 
you  like  to  see?  'How  much  do  you  think  Papa 
d'Aldrigger  left?'  said  Desroches  to  Taillefer,  who 
gave  us,  before  his  death,  the  very  finest  orgie 
known — " 

"Was  Desroches  an  attorney  at  that  time?" 

"He  was  admitted  in  1822,"  said  Couture. 
"And  it  was  a  good  deal  for  the  son  of  a  poor  em- 
ploye who  had  never  had  more  than  eighteen  hun- 
dred francs,  and  whose  mother  conducted  an 
establishment  for  the  sale  of  stamped  paper.  But 
he  worked  hard  from  1818  to  1822.  Entered  as  a 
fourth  clerk  in  the  office  of  Derville,  he  was  second 
clerk  in  1819!" 

"Desroches?" 

"Yes,"  said  Bixiou.      "Desroches  rolled  along, 


48  THE  HOUSE  OF  NUCINGEN 

like  us,  on  the  dung-hills  of  favoritism.  Tired  of 
wearing  coats  too  small  and  sleeves  too  short,  he  ate 
up  his  fee  in  despair  and  secured  a  bare  title.  An 
attorney  without  a  sou,  without  any  clients,  with- 
out any  other  friends  than  us,  he  had  to  pay  the 
interest  on  a  commission  and  on  his  securities." 

"He  looked  to  me  then  like  a  tiger  from  the  Jardin 
des  Plantes,"  said  Couture.  "Thin,  with  reddish 
hair,  his  eyes  the  color  of  Spanish  tobacco,  a  harsh 
skin,  a  cold  and  phlegmatic  air,  but  harsh  for  the 
widow,  merciless  for  the  orphan,  a  hard  worker,  the 
terror  of  his  clerks,  who  did  not  dare  to  waste  their 
time,  learned,  shrewd,  two-sided,  with  a  honeyed 
elocution,  never  excited,  hateful  after  the  manner 
of  a  judicial  man." 

"And  there  was  some  good  in  him,"  cried  Finot; 
"he  was  devoted  to  his  friends,  and  his  first  care 
was  to  take  Godeschal,  the  brother  of  Mariette,  for 
head  clerk." 

"At  Paris,"  said  Blondet,  "advocates  are  of  only 
two  kinds, — there  is  the  advocate  who  is  an  honest 
man,  who  keeps  within  the  terms  of  the  law,  pushes 
his  suits,  does  not  run  after  business,  neglects  noth- 
ing, gives  his  clients  good  advice,  comes  to  an 
agreement  with  them  on  all  doubtful  points,  a  Der- 
ville,  in  short.  Then,  there  is  the  starveling  advo- 
cate, for  whom  everything  is  good,  provided  only 
that  his  fees  are  assured;  who  would  bring  into 
action  not  the  mountains,  he  would  sell  them,  but  the 
planets;  who  would  interest  himself  in  the  triumph 
of   a  rascal  over  an  honest  man  if  by  chance  the 


THE  HOUSE  OF  NUCINGEN  49 

honest  man  did  not  have  the  best  case.  When 
one  of  these  advocates  has  done  a  trick,  after  the 
manner  of  Master  Gonin,  a  little  too  strong,  the 
Chamber  compels  him  to  sell  out.  Desroches,  our 
friend  Desroches,  understood  this  trade,  so  badly 
managed  by  the  sorry  fellows;  he  took  charge  of  the 
cases  of  those  persons  who  feared  to  lose  them ;  he 
threw  himself  eagerly  into  chicanery  like  a  man 
determined  to  get  out  of  his  poverty.  He  was  right; 
he  followed  his  trade  very  honestly.  He  found 
protectors  in  men  of  political  affairs  by  straighten- 
ing out  their  embarrassed  transactions,  as  in  the 
case  of  our  dear  des  Lupeaulx,  whose  position  was 
so  compromised.  It  required  all  this  to  get  him  into 
a  good  position,  for  Desroches  had  commenced  by 
being  very  badly  considered  by  the  court,  he  who 
rectified  with  so  much  trouble  the  errors  of  his 
clients! — Well,  Bixiou,  to  return — .  How  did  Des- 
roches come  to  be  in  the  church?" 

"  'D'Aldrigger  left  seven  or  eight  hundred  thous- 
and francs!"  answered  Taillefer  to  Desroches. 
'Ah,  bah !  there  is  only  one  person  who  knows  what 
their  fortune  is,'  said  Werbrust,  a  friend  of  the 
deceased. — 'Who?' — 'That  big  scamp  of  a  Nucin- 
gen;  he  will  go  to  the  cemetery;  d'Aldrigger  was 
his  patron,  and  through  gratitude  he  will  appraise 
the  property  of  the  worthy  man.'  'His  widow  will 
find  a  very  great  difference !'  'What  do  you  mean  ?' 
'But  d'Aldrigger  loved  his  wife  so  much!  Don't 
laugh,  people  are  looking  at  us.'  'Well,  here  is  Du 
Tillet;  he  is  very  late;  he  gets  here  in  time  to  hear 
4 


50  THE   HOUSE  OF  NUCINGEN 

the  epistle.'     'He  will  doubtless  marry  the  elder.' 
'Is  it  possible?'  said  Desroches.  'He  is  more  than 
ever  engaged  with    Madame   Roguin. '     'He!     En- 
gaged?— you  do  not  know  him.'    'Do  you  know  the 
position  of  Nucingen  and  of  Du  Tillet?'  asked  Des- 
roches.    'Here  it  is,'  said  Taillefer, — 'Nucingen  is 
a  man  to  eat  up  the  capital  of  his  former  patron  and 
to  give  it  back  to  him.'     'Heu!     Heu!'    said  Wer- 
brust.     'It  is  devilishly  damp  in  the  churches,  heu! 
heu!'    'How  give   it  up  again?' — 'Well,  Nucingen 
knows  that  Du  Tillet  has  a  great  fortune,  he  wants 
to  marry  him  to  Malvina;  but  Du  Tillet  mistrusts 
Nucingen.      For  those   who  watch   the  play,   this 
game  is  amusing.'     'How,'  said  Werbrust,  'is  she 
already  old  enough  to  marry?     How   fast  we  grow 
old!'    'Malvina   d'Aldrigger   is  more  than  twenty, 
my  dear    fellow.     The    goodman  d'Aldrigger  was 
married  in  1800!     He  gave  us  some  very  good  fetes 
at  Strasbourg  on  the  occasion  of  his  marriage  and 
at  the  birth  of  Malvina.     That  was  in  1801,  at  the 
Peace  of  Amiens,  and  we  are  now  in    1823,  Papa 
Werbrust.     In   those  times,  everything  was  Ossi- 
anized!  he  named  his  daughter  Malvina.    Six  years 
later,  under  the  Empire,  there  was  for  some  time  a 
fury  for  chivalric  things,  it  was  all  Partant  pour  la 
Syrie,—2L  heap  of   foolishnesses.       He  named    his 
second  daughter  Isaure;  she  is  seventeen.     There 
are  two   marriageable  girls!'    'Those,  women  will 
not  have  a  sou  in  ten  years,'  said  Werbrust,  confi- 
dentially, to  Desroches.     'There  is,'  replied  Taille- 
fer, 'the  valet  de  chambre  of  d'Aldrigger,  that  old 


THE  HOUSE  OF  NUCINGEN  51 

fellow  who  bellows  at  the  back  of  the  church;  he 
has  seen  the  two  demoiselles  brought  up;  he  is  cap- 
able of  doing  everything  to  preserve  them  their 
property.'  The  chanters:  Dies  irce !  The  children 
of  the  choir:  Dies  ilia !  Taillefer:  'Adieu,  Wer- 
brust;  when  1  hear  the  Dies  irce,  it  reminds  me  too 
strongly  of  my  poor  son.'  'I  am  going  too,  it  is  too 
damp  here,'  said  Werbrust. — In  favilla. — The  beg- 
gars at  the  door:  'A  few  pennies,  my  dear  gentle- 
men!' The  beadle:  'Pan!  Pan!  for  the  needs  of 
the  church.'  The  chanters:  'Amen!'  A  friend: 
'What  did  he  die  of?'  An  inquisitive  joker :  'Of 
a  broken  blood-vessel  in  the  heel.'  A  passer-by: 
'Do  you  know  who  is  the  personage  who  has  died?' 
A  relative:  'The  President  de  Montesquieu.'  The 
sacristan  to  the  beggars:  'Get  away  from  here; 
they  have  given  to  us  for  you.  Don't  ask  any 
more!'  " 

"What  verve  V  said  Couture. 

— In  fact,  it  seemed  to  us  that  we  heard  everything 
that  happened  in  the  church.  Bixiou  imitated 
everything,  even  to  the  noise  of  those  who  went 
away  with  the  body,  by  a  shuffling  of  his  feet  on 
the  floor. — 

"There  are  poets,  romancers,  writers,  who  say  a 
great  many  pretty  things  about  Parisian  manners," 
resumed  Bixiou,  "but  this  is  the  truth  about  funer- 
als. Of  a  hundred  persons  who  render  the  last 
duties  to  a  poor  devil  of  a  dead  man,  ninety-nine  talk 
of  business  and  of  pleasure  openly  in  the  church. 
In  order  to  see  some  poor  little  real  grief,  it  requires 


52  THE  HOUSE  OF  NUCINGEN 

impossible  circumstances.  Further!  is  there  a 
grief  without  selfishness? — " 

"Heu!  Heu!"  said  Blondet.  "There  is  nothing 
in  the  world  less  respected  than  death,  perhaps 
because  there  is  nothing  less  respectable?" — 

"It  is  so  common!"  resumed  Bixiou.  "When the 
service  was  over,  Nucingen  and  Du  Tillet  accom- 
panied the  body  to  the  cemetery.  The  old  valet  de 
chambre  followed  on  foot.  The  coachman  drove 
the  carriage  behind  that  of  the  clergy.  'Vel,  my 
gude  vrent,'  said  Nucingen  to  Du  Tillet,  as  they 
turned  the  corner  of  the  Boulevard,  'dis  is  a  gude 
zhance  to  marry  Malvina ;  you  vil  be  de  prodecdor  ov 
dat  boor  vamily  veeping,  you  vould  haf  a  family, 
a  home;  you  vould  find  a  house  alretty  vurnished, 
und  Malvina  for  zure  is  a  real  dresure. '  " 

"It  is  just  like  hearing  him  speak,  that  old  Robert 
Macaire  of  a  Nucingen!"  said  Finot. 

"  'A  charming  young  woman, '  "  said  Ferdinand  du 
Tillet,  with  enthusiasm,  and  without  exciting  him- 
self,' "  resumed  Bixiou. 

"It  is  all  of  Du  Tillet  in  one  word!"  cried  Cou- 
ture. 

"  'She  might  seem  ugly  to  those  who  do  not  know 

her,  but,  I  am  sure  of  it,  she  has  a  fine  soul,'  said 
Du  Tiliet.  'And  a  hart,  dat  is  de  best  ov  it,  my  tear 
vellow;  zhe  vould  haf  tefotion  und  indelligence. 
In  our  tog  ov  a  drade,  you  nefer  know  who  vil  life 
und  who  vil  tie;  it  is  a  great  habbiness  do  be  able 
do  drust  in  the  hart  of  your  vife.  I  vould  sed 
off  Telvine,  who,  you  know,  brought  me  more  dan 


THE   HOUSE  OF  NUCINGEN  53 

a  million,  against  Malvina,  who  has  nod  so  gread  a 
dod. '     'But  how  much  has  she?'     'I  do  nod  know 
schust, '  said  the  Baron  de  Nucingen,  'but  zhe  has 
somedings. '     'She  has  a  mother  who  likes  to  wear 
pink!'  said  Du  Tillet.     This  speech  put  an  end  to 
the  attempts  of  Nucingen.     After  dinner,  the  baron 
informed  Wilhelmine  Adolphus  that  there  remained 
in    his    keeping    scarcely   four    hundred    thousand 
francs.      The  daughter  of  the  Adolphuses  of  Mann- 
heim,   reduced  to  twenty-four    thousand  francs  of 
income,   lost   herself   in  calculations  which  bewil- 
dered her.     'What!'  said  she  to  Malvina,  'what!    I 
have  always  had  six  thousand  francs  for  us  to  spend 
at  the  dressmakers !  but  where  did  your  father  get 
the  money?    We  shall   have  nothing  at  all   with 
twenty-four  thousand  francs ;  we  shall  starve.     Ah ! 
if  my  father  should  see  me  thus  reduced  he  would 
die   of   it,    if  he    were    not    already   dead !     Poor 
Wilhelmine!'     And  she  wept.     Malvina,  not  know- 
ing  how  to   console    her    mother,    represented  to 
her  that  she  was  still  young  and  pretty;  that  pink 
was  still  becoming  to  her;  that  she  would  go  to  the 
Opera,  to  the  Bouffons  in  the  box  of  Madame  de 
Nucingen.     She  lulled  her  mother  to  sleep  in  dreams 
of  fetes,  of  balls,  of  music,  of  beautiful  toilets  and 
of  success,  a  dream  which  commenced  under  the  cur- 
tains of  a  bed  in   blue  silk,  in  an  elegant  chamber, 
adjoining  that  in  which  had  expired,  two  nights  pre- 
viously,   Monsieur    Jean-Baptiste    Baron   d'Aldrig- 
ger,  whose  history  may  be  given  in  three  words. 
During    his    life-time,    this    respectable   Alsatian, 


54  THE  HOUSE  OF  NUCINGEN 

a  banker  at  Strasbourg,  had  acquired  a  fortune  of 
about  three  millions.  In  1800,  at  the  age  of  thirty- 
six,  at  the  climax  of  a  fortune  made  during  the  Rev- 
olution, he  had  married,  through  ambition  and  by 
inclination,  the  heiress  of  all  the  Adolphuses  of 
Mannheim,  a  young  girl  adored  by  a  whole  family, 
and  naturally  she  received  the  ancestral  fortune  in 
the  space  of  ten  years.  D'Aldrigger  was  then  made 
a  baron  by  His  Majesty,  the  Emperor  and  King,  for 
his  fortune  doubled  itself.  But  he  had  a  passion  for 
the  great  man  who  had  given  him  his  title;  there- 
fore, between  1814  and  181 5,  he  was  ruined  for 
having  taken  seriously  the  sun  of  Austerlitz.  The 
honest  Alsatian  did  not  suspend  payment,  did  not 
satisfy  his  creditors  with  values  which  he  consid- 
ered doubtful ;  he  paid  everything  over  the  counter, 
retired  from  the  bank  and  deserved  the  description 
of  his  former  head  clerk,  Nucingen:  'Honest  man, 
but  a  fool !'  Everything  included,  there  remained  to 
him  five  hundred  thousand  francs  and  obligations 
due  under  the  Empire,  which  no  longer  existed.  '  See 
vat  it  is  to  haf  beliefed  too  much  in  Nappolion,' 
said  he,  when  he  saw  the  result  of  his  liquida- 
tion. When  one  has  been  one  of  the  first  citizens, 
what  a  descent  to  be  one  of  the  lesser  ones! — The 
banker  of  Alsace  did  as  do  all  the  ruined  provin- 
cials,— he  came  to  Paris,  he  there  wore  courageously 
tri-colored  suspenders  on  which  were  embroidered 
the  imperial  eagles,  and  he  concentrated  himself  in 
Bonapartist  society.  He  placed  all  his  funds  in  the 
hand   of  the   Baron  de    Nucingen,  who  gave  him 


THE   HOUSE  OF  NUCINGEN  55 

eight  per  cent  for  everything,  accepting  his  imper- 
ial claims  at  sixty  per  cent  only  of  loss,  which 
was  the  cause  of  d'Aldrigger's  clasping  the  hand  of 
Nucingen  and  saying  to  him:  '1  vas  very  zure  to 
vind  a  hart  in  an  Elzacien!'  Nucingen  secured 
payment  in  full  from  our  friend,  des  Lupeaulx. 
Though  much  shorn,  the  Alsatian  still  had  a  work- 
ing revenue  of  forty-four  thousand  francs.  His 
chagrin  was  complicated  with  the  spleen  which 
affects  those  who  are  accustomed  to  live  in  the  midst 
of  affairs  when  they  are  separated  from  them.  The 
banker  gave  himself  for  a  duty  the  task  of  sacrific- 
ing himself,  noble  heart!  to  his  wife,  whose  fortune 
had  been  made  away  with,  and  which  she  had 
allowed  to  be  taken  with  the  indifference  of  a  young 
woman  to  whom  monetary  affairs  were  entirely  un- 
known. The  Baroness  d'Aldrigger,  then,  was  able 
to  find  again  the  pleasures  to  which  she  had  been 
accustomed,  the  void  which  had  been  caused  by  the 
loss  of  the  society  of  Strasbourg  was  filled  by  the 
pleasures  of  Paris.  The  house  of  Nucingen  held 
then,  as  it  still  holds,  the  supremacy  in  financial 
society,  and  the  clever  baron  made  it  a  point  of 
honor  to  treat  well  the  honest  baron.  This  fine 
virtue  did  good  service  in  the  Salon  Nucingen. 
Each  winter  curtailed  the  capital  of  d'Aldrigger; 
but  he  did  not  dare  to  make  the  least  reproach  to 
the  pearl  of  the  Adolphuses;  his  tenderness  was  the 
most  ingenuous  and  the  most  unintelligent  that  there 
is  in  this  world.  An  honest  man,  but  stupid!  He 
died  asking  himself:  'What  will  become  of  them 


56  THE   HOUSE  OF  NUCINGEN 

without  me?'  And  during  a  moment  in  which  he 
was  alone  with  his  old  valet  de  chambre,  Wirth,  the 
good  man,  between  two  suffocations,  commended 
to  him  his  wife  and  his  two  daughters,  as  if  this 
Caleb  of  Alsace  was  the  only  reasonable  being  that 
there  was  in  the  house.  Three  years  later,  in 
1826,  Isaure  was  twenty  years  old  and  Malvina  was 
not  yet  married.  In  going  out  into  the  world,  Mal- 
vina had  ended  by  becoming  convinced  of  the  super- 
ficiality of  all  its  relations,  of  the  extent  to  which 
everything  there  is  examined,  defined.  Like  the 
greater  number  of  young  women  said  to  be  well 
brought-up,  Malvina  was  ignorant  of  the  mechanism 
of  life,  of  the  importance  of  a  fortune,  the  difficulty 
of  acquiring  the  smallest  amount  of  money,  the  price 
of  things.  Thus,  during  these  six  years,  every 
enlightenment  had  been  to  her  like  a  wound.  The 
four  hundred  thousand  francs  left  by  the  late  d'Al- 
drigger  in  the  house  of  Nucingen  were  carried  to 
the  credit  of  the  baroness,  for  the  estate  of  her  hus- 
band was  indebted  to  her  in  the  sum  of  twelve 
hundred  thousand  francs;  and  in  times  of  need,  the 
shepherdess  of  the  Alps  drew  from  it  as  from  an 
inexhaustible  treasury.  At  the  moment  in  which 
our  pigeon  was  advancing  toward  his  turtle-dove, 
Nucingen,  knowing  the  character  of  his  ancient 
patroness,  felt  himself  obliged  to  explain  to  Malvina 
the  financial  situation  in  which  the  widow  was 
placed,— he  had  no  more  than  three  hundred  thous- 
and francs  in  his  hands,  the  twenty-four  thousand 
francs  of  income  were,  therefore,  reduced  to  eighteen 


THE  HOUSE  OF  NUCINGEN  57 

thousand.  Wirth  had  maintained  the  status  dur- 
ing three  years!  After  the  banker's  revelation,  the 
horses  were  disposed  of,  the  carriages  sold  and  the 
coachman  dispensed  with  by  Malvina,  without  her 
mother's  knowledge.  The  furniture  of  the  hotel, 
which  had  been  in  use  for  ten  years,  could  not  be 
renewed,  but  everything  had  faded  in  the  same 
time.  For  those  who  love  harmony,  this  was  only 
a  semi-misfortune.  The  baroness,  this  flower  so 
well  preserved,  had  taken  the  aspect  of  a  rose,  cold 
and  shriveled  which  remains  alone  on  the  bush  in 
the  middle  of  November.  I  who  speak  to  you,  I 
have  seen  this  opulence  vanishing  by  shades,-  by 
demitones!  It  was  frightful,  on  my  honor!  That 
was  my  last  grief.  After  it  I  said  to  myself:  'It  is 
idiotic  to  take  so  much  interest  in  others!'  While 
I  was  an  employe,  I  was  stupid  enough  to  interest 
myself  in  all  the  houses  in  which  I  dined,  I  defended 
them  in  case  of  scandal.  I  did  not  calumniate  them, 
I — Oh!  I  was  an  infant!  When  her  daughter  had 
explained  to  her  her  position,  the  ci-devant  pearl 
exclaimed:  'My  poor  children!  Who  will  then 
make  my  gowns !  I  cannot  then  have  any  more 
new  bonnets,  nor  receive,  nor  go  out  in  society!' — 
In  what  way  do  you  think  love  can  be  recognized 
in  a  man?"  said  Bixiou,  interrupting  himself;  "it 
concerns  us  to  know  if  Beaudenord  was  really  in 
love  with  this  little  blond." 

"He  neglects  his  affairs,"  replied  Couture. 

"He  puts  on  three  shirts  in  one  day,"  said 
Finot. 


58  THE  HOUSE  OF  NUCINGEN 

"A  preliminary  question,"  said  Blondet, — "a 
superior  man,  can  he  and  should  he  be  in  love?" 

"My  friends,"  resumed  Bixiou,  with  a  senti- 
mental air,  "beware,  as  you  would  of  a  venomous 
beast,  of  the  man  who,  feeling  himself  taken  with 
love  for  a  woman,  snaps  his  fingers  or  throws  away 
his  cigar,  saying:  'Bah!  there  are  others  in  the 
world !'  But  the  government  may  employ  this  citizen 
in  the  Ministry  of  Foreign  Affairs.  Blondet,  I'd 
have  you  note  that  this  Godefroid  had  quit  the 
diplomatic  career." 

"Well,  he  has  been  absorbed;  love  offers  fools 
their  only  chance  of  growing,"  replied  Blondet. 

"Blondet,  Blondet,  why  are  we,  then,  so  poor?" 
cried  Bixiou. 

"And  why  is  Finot  so  rich?"  replied  Blondet;  "I 
will  tell  you;  come,  my  boy,  we  will  understand 
each  other.  Just  see,  there  is  Finot,  who  pours  out 
my  wine  as  if  I  had  carried  up  his  fire-wood  for  him. 
But  toward  the  end  of  the  dinner  you  should  sip 
your  wine. — Well,  then?" 

"As  you  say,  the  absorbed  Godefroid  became  very 
well  acquainted  with  the  tall  Malvina,  the  fair 
baroness  and  the  little  danseuse.  Ah!  he  fell  into  a 
state  of  servantism  of  the  most  detailed  and  the 
most  astringent  character.  These  remnants  of  a 
cadaverous  opulence  did  not  frighten  him.  Ah,  bah! 
he  became  accustomed  by  degrees  to  all  these  rags. 
The  green  lampas  of  the  salon,  with  its  white  orna- 
ments, never  appeared  to  this  youth  worn  or  old, 
nor  spotted,  nor  in  need  of   being   renewed.     The 


THE   HOUSE   OF  NUC1NGEN  59 

curtains,  the  tea-table,  the  Chinese  ornaments  on 
the  chimney-piece,  the  rococo  glass  chandelier,  the 
carpet  in  imitation  Cashmere  worn  threadbare,  the 
piano,  the  little  flowered  table  service,  the  napkins 
fringed  and  also  open-worked  in  the  Spanish  style, 
the  Persian  salon,  which  opened  into  the  bed-cham- 
ber, in  blue,  of  the  baroness,  with  its  accessories, 
everything  to  him  was  saintly  and  sacred.  Women 
who  are  commonplace,  and  in  whom  beauty  shines, 
so  as  to  throw  into  the  shade  wit,  the  heart  and 
the  soul,  alone  can  inspire  such  complete  forgetful- 
ness,  for  a  spiritual  woman  never  abuses  her  advan- 
tages; it  is  necessary  to  be  petite  and  foolish  thus 
to  carry  a  man  away.  Beaudenord,  he  told  me  so 
himself,  loved  the  old  and  solemn  Wirth  !  This  old 
fellow  respected  his  future  master  as  a  Catholic 
believer  respects  the  Eucharist.  This  honest 
Wirth  was  a  German  Gaspard,  one  of  those  beer- 
drinkers  who  conceal  their  shrewdness  in  their 
good-nature,  as  a  cardinal  of  the  Middle  Ages  his 
poniard  in  his  sleeve.  Wirth,  seeing  a  husband  for 
Isaure,  surrounded  Godefroid  with  the  ambages  and 
flowery  circumlocutions  of  his  Alsatian  good-nature, 
the  most  binding  of  all  adhesive  things.  Madame 
d'Aldrigger  was  profoundly  improper,  she  found  love 
the  most  natural  thing  in  the  world.  When  Isaure 
and  Malvina  went  out  together  to  the  Tuileries  or  to 
the  Champs-Elysees,  where  they  would  meet  the 
young  people  of  their  society,  the  mother  would  say 
to  them:  'Amuse  yourselves,  my  dear  daughters.' 
Their  friends,   the  only  persons  who  could  speak 


60  THE  HOUSE  OF  NUCINGEN 

evil  of  the  two  sisters,  defended  them;  for  the  great 
liberty  which  reigned  in  the  salon  of  the  d'Aldrig- 
gers  rendered  it  an  unique  locality  in  Paris.  With 
a  fortune  of  millions,  it  would  have  been  difficult  to 
have  obtained  such  evenings,  in  which  everything 
was  discussed  with  spirit,  in  which  a  careful  partic- 
ularity was  not  required,  in  which  every  one  was 
at  his  ease,  even  to  the  extent  of  asking  for  supper. 
The  two  sisters  wrote  to  whomsoever  they  pleased, 
received  peacefully  their  letters  by  their  mother's 
side,  without  the  idea  ever  occurring  to  the  baroness 
to  make  any  inquiries.  This  adorable  mother  gave 
to  her  daughters  all  the  benefits  of  her  egoism,  the 
most  amiable  passion  in  the  world,  in  this  respect 
that  the  egoists,  not  wishing  to  be  interfered  with, 
interfere  with  no  one,  and  do  not  in  the  least  em- 
barrass the  life  of  those  who  surround  them  with 
the  brambles  of  good  advice,  with  the  thorns  of 
remonstrance,  nor  with  the  wasp-like  teasing  which 
are  permitted  to  those  excessive  friendships  which 
wish  to  know  everything,  to  control  everything. — " 

"You  go  to  my  heart,"  said  Blondet.  "But,  my 
dear  fellow,  you  are  not  telling  your  story,  you  are 
hoaxing — " 

"Blondet,  if  you  were  not  drunk,  you  would  give 
me  pain!  Of  us  four,  he  is  the  only  man  who  is 
seriously  literary!  For  his  sake,  I  am  doing  you 
the  honor  to  treat  you  as  epicures,  I  am  distilling 
to  you  my  history,  and  he  criticises  me!  My 
friends,  the  greatest  evidence  of  mental  sterility 
is  the  heaping  up  of  fact.     The  sublime  comedy  of 


THE  HOUSE  OF  NUCINGEN  6l 

the  Misanthrope  proves  that  art  consists  in  build- 
ing a  palace  on  the  point  of  a  needle.  The  myth 
of  my  idea  is  in  the  wand  of  the  fairy  which  can 
make  of  the  plain  of  Sablons  an  Interlaken,  in  ten 
seconds — the  time  to  empty  this  glass! — Would 
you  have  me  make  a  recital  to  you  that  should  go 
like  a  cannon-ball,  a  report  of  the  general-in-chief  ? 
We  are  conversing,  we  are  laughing,  this  news- 
paper man,  bibliophobe  fasting,  wishes,  when  he 
is  drunk,  that  I  should  give  to  my  language  the  sot- 
tish attraction  of  a  book — he  pretends  to  weep. — 
Woe  to  the  French  imagination,  the  needles  of  its 
pleasantry  are  to  be  blunted !  Dies  irce.  Weep, 
Candide,  and  long  live  the  Critique  de  la  raison 
pure!  the  Symbolique ,  and  the  systems  in  five 
compact  volumes,  printed  by  the  Germans,  who 
have  not  known  at  Paris  since  1750,  to  put  it  neatly, 
the  diamonds  of  our  national  intelligence,  Blondet 
conducts  the  funeral  train  of  its  suicide,  he  who 
utters  in  his  journal  the  last  words  of  all  the  great 
men  who  have  died  for  us  without  saying  anything. " 

"Go  your  own  gait,"  said  Finot. 

"I  wish  to  explain  to  you  in  what  consists  the 
happiness  of  a  man  who  is  not  a  shareholder — this 
is  a  politeness  to  Couture! — Well,  do  you  not  see 
now  at  what  price  Godefroid  procured  the  greatest 
happiness  that  a  young  man  could  dream  of! — He 
studied  Isaure  to  be  sure  of  being  comprehended! — 
Those  things  which  comprehend  each  other  should 
be  similar.  Now,  there  are  only  like  each  other  two 
things,   nothingness  and  the   infinite;    nothingness 


62  THE  HOUSE  OF  NUCINGEN 

is  stupidity,  genius  is  the  infinite.  These  two 
lovers  wrote  to  each  other  the  most  stupid  letters  in 
the  world,  sending  them  on  paper  perfumed  with  the 
words  then  in  the  fashion:  'Angel!  ^Eolian  harp! 
with  thee  1  shall  be  complete!  There  is  a  heart  in 
my  manly  chest !  Feeble  woman  !  poor  me !'  all  the 
frippery  of  a  modern  heart.  Godefroid  scarcely 
remained  ten  minutes  in  a  salon,  he  talked  with 
women  without  any  pretension,  and  they  found  him 
very  witty.  He  was  of  those  who  have  no  other 
wit  than  that  which  is  lent  them.  In  short,  you 
may  judge  of  his  absorption, — Joby,  his  horses,  his 
carriages,  became  secondary  things  in  his  existence. 
He  was  only  happy  when  ensconced  in  her  comforta- 
ble sofa  before  the  baroness,  at  the  corner  of  that 
chimney-piece  in  verd-antique,  occupied  in  watch- 
ing Isaure,  in  drinking  tea  while  conversing  with  a 
little  group  of  friendi  who  came  every  evening,  be- 
tween eleven  o'clock  and  midnight,  to  Rue  Joubert, 
and  where  one  could  always  have  a  game  of  bouil- 
lotte  without  fear: — I  always  won.  When  Isaure 
had  put  out  her  pretty  little  foot,  shod  with  a  black 
satin  slipper  and  when  Godefroid  had  looked  at  it 
for  a  longtime,  he  remained  after  all  the  others  and 
said  to  Isaure:  'Give  me  thy  shoe' — Isaure  raised 
her  foot,  rested  it  on  a  chair,  took  off  her  shoe,  gave 
it  to  him,  throwing  upon  him  a  look,  one  of  those 
looks — in  short,  you  understand!  Godefroid  ended 
by  discovering  a  great  mystery  in  Malvina.  When 
Du  Tillet  knocked  at  the  door,  the  lively  red  which 
colored  the  cheeks  of  Malvina  said:     'Ferdinand!' 


THE   HOUSE   OF  NUCINGEN  63 

when  looking  at  this  tiger  with  two  paws,  the  eyes  of 
the  poor  girl  lit  up  like  a  brazier  on  which  a  current 
of  air  is  turned;  she  betrayed  an  infinite  pleasure 
when  Ferdinand  took  her  aside  to  tell  her  something 
by  a  console  or  at  the  window.  How  very  rare 
and  beautiful  it  is,  a  woman  enough  in  love  to  be- 
come candid  and  to  permit  her  heart  to  be  read! 
Mon  Dien,  it  is  as  scarce  in  Paris  as  is  in  the  Indies 
the  flower  that  sings.  Notwithstanding  this  friend- 
ship, commenced  the  day  on  which  the  d'Aldrig- 
gers  appeared  at  the  Nucingens,  Ferdinand  did  not 
marry  Malvina.  Our  ferocious  friend,  Du  Tillet,  had 
not  seemed  jealous  of  the  assiduous  court  which 
Desroches  paid  to  Malvina,  for,  to  finish  paying  for 
his  practice  charges  with  a  dot  which  appeared  to 
be  not  less  than  fifty  thousand  ecus,  he  had  feigned 
love,  he,  a  man  of  the  law!  Although  profoundly 
humiliated  by  the  indifference  of  Du  Tillet,  Malvina 
loved  him  too  much  to  shut  the  door  on  him.  In  this 
young  woman,  all  soul,  all  sentiment,  all  expansion, 
sometimes  pride  yielded  to  love,  sometimes  offended 
love  permitted  pride  to  triumph.  Calm  and  cold, 
our  friend  Ferdinand  accepted  this  tenderness,  he 
inhaled  it  with  the  tranquil  satisfaction  of  a  tiger 
licking  the  blood  which  stains  its  jaws;  he  came  to 
get  fresh  proofs  of  it;  he  did  not  allow  two  days  to 
pass  without  presenting  himself  in  the  Rue  Joubert. 
The  scamp  possessed  at  this  time  about  eighteen 
hundred  thousand  francs;  the  question  of  fortune 
should  have  been  a  secondary  one  in  his  eyes,  and 
he  had  resisted  not  only  Malvina,  but  the  Barons  of 


64  THE  HOUSE  OF  NUCINGEN 

Nucingen  and  of  Rastignac,  who,  both  of  them,  had 
made  him  do  seventy-five  leagues  a  day,  with  four 
francs  to  the  guides,  the  postilion  in  advance,  and 
with  no  clew!  in  the  labyrinths  of  their  shrewd- 
ness. Godefroid  could  not  restrain  himself  from 
speaking  to  his  future  sister-in-law  of  the  unfortu- 
nate situation  in  which  she  was  placed  between  a 
banker  and  an  advocate.  'You  wish  to  sermonize 
me  on  the  subject  of  Ferdinand,  to  know  the  secret 
which  is  between  us,'  she  said  frankly.  'Dear 
Godefroid,  do  not  speak  of  it  again.  The  birth  of 
Ferdinand,  his  antecedents,  his  fortune,  count,  for 
nothing;  therefore  you  may  believe  in  something 
extraordinary.'  Nevertheless,  a  few  days  later, 
Malvina  took  Beaudenord  aside  and  said  to  him: 
'I  do  not  think  Monsieur  Desroches  is  an  honest 
man — such  is  the  instinct  of  love! — he  would  like 
to  marry  me,  and  is  paying  court  to  a  grocer's 
daughter.  I  should  much  like  to  know  if  I  am  a 
make-shift,  if  marriage  is  for  him  only  an  affair 
of  money!'  Despite  his  great  intelligence,  Des- 
roches could  not  make  out  Du  Tillet,  and  he 
feared  to  see  him  marry  Malvina.  Thus  the  youth 
had  managed  a  retreat;  his  position  was  intolerable; 
he  gained  with  difficulty,  all  expenses  paid,  the 
interest  of  his  debt.  Women  never  understand  any- 
thing of  these  situations.  For  them,  the  heart  is 
always  a  millionaire!" 

"But,  as  neither  Desroches  nor  Du  Tillet  married 
Malvina,"  said  Finot,  "explain  to  us  Ferdinand's 
secret." 


THE  HOUSE  OF  NUCINGEN  65 

"The  secret,  here  it  is, "  replied  Bixiou.  "General 
rule :  A  young  person  who  has  once  given  her  slipper, 
if  she  should  refuse  it  for  ten  years,  is  never  married 
by  him  to  whom — " 

"Nonsense!"  said  Blondet,  interrupting,  "one 
loves  also  because  one  has  loved.  The  secret,  here 
it  is.  General  rule:  Do  not  marry  as  a  sergeant, 
when  you  can  become  Due  de  Dantzick  and  Marshal 
of  France.  Thus,  see  what  an  alliance  Du  Tillet 
did  make!  He  married  one  of  the  daughters  of  the 
Comte  de  Granville,  one  of  the  oldest  families  of 
the  French  magistracy." 

"The  mother  of  Desroches  had  a  friend,"  resumed 
Bixiou,  "the  wife  of  a  druggist,  which  druggist  had 
retired  swollen  with  a  fortune.  These  druggists 
have  very  absurd  ideas, — in  order  to  give  his  daugh- 
ter a  good  education  he  had  put  her  in  a  boarding- 
school ! — This  Matifat  counted  on  marrying  his 
daughter  well,  by  virtue  of  two  hundred  thousand 
francs,  in  good  and  sound  money  which  did  not 
smell  of  drugs." 

"The  Matifat  of  Florine?"  said  Blondet. 

"Well,  yes,  Lousteau's,  ours,  in  short!  These 
Matifats,  then  lost  to  us,  had  taken  a  house  in  the 
Rue  du  Cherche-Midi,  the  most  opposite  quarter  to 
the  Rue  des  Lombards,  in  which  they  had  made  their 
fortune.  As  for  myself,  I  cultivated  them,  the 
Matifats!  During  my  time  in  the  ministerial  gal- 
leys, in  which  1  was  locked  up  eight  hours  every 
day  among  dunces  of  twenty-two  carats,  I  saw  some 
originals  which  convinced  me  that  shadows  have 
5 


66  THE  HOUSE  OF  NUCINGEN 

their  asperities,  and  that  in  the  greatest  flatness  one 
may  encounter  angles!  Yes,  my  dear  fellow,  one 
bourgeois  is  to  another  as  Raphael  is  to  Natoire. 
The  widow  Desroches  had  brought  about  with  all 
her  influence  this  marriage  to  her  son,  notwith- 
standing the  enormous  obstacle  presented  by  a 
certain  Cochin,  a  son  of  the  sleeping-partner  of  the 
Matifats,  a  young  man  employed  in  the  Ministry  of 
Finance.  In  the  eyes  of  Monsieur  and  Madame 
Matifat,  the  standing  of  an  advocate  appeared,  as 
they  expressed  it,  to  offer  guarantees  for  the  happi- 
ness of  a  wife.  Desroches  lent  himself  to  his 
mother's  plans  in  order  to  have  a  certain  choice.  He 
accordingly  kept  on  good  terms  with  the  druggist  of 
the  Rue  du  Cherche-Midi.  To  be  able  to  understand 
another  species  of  happiness,  it  would  be  necessary 
to  describe  for  you  these  two  trades-people,  male  and 
female,  enjoying  a  little  garden,  lodged  in  a  fine 
ground-floor,  amusing  themselves  with  watching  a 
little  fountain,  thin  and  long  as  a  spike,  which 
played  perpetually  and  sprang  from  a  little  round 
table  in  freestone,  in  the  middle  of  a  basin  six  feet 
in  diameter;  rising  early  to  see  if  the  flowers  in 
their  garden  had  grown,  unemployed  and  un- 
quiet, dressing  for  the  sake  of  dressing,  boring 
themselves  at  the  theatre,  and  forever  between 
Paris  and  Luzarches,  where  they  had  a  country- 
house,  and  where  I  have  dined.  Blondet,  one  day 
when  they  wished  me  to  do  something  for  them,  1 
related  to  them  a  story  from  nine  o'clock  in  the 
evening  to  midnight,  an  adventure  of  episodes.     I 


THE  HOUSE  OF  NUCINGEN  67 

had  arrived  at  the  introduction  of  my  twenty-ninth 
personage — the  serial  novels  stole  it  from  me ! — when 
Father  Matifat,  who,  in  his  character  as  head  of  the 
house,  had  kept  up  a  good  appearance,  fell  to  snoring 
like  the  others,  after  having  been  winking  for  five 
minutes.  The  next  day  everybody  complimented 
me  on  the  ending  of  my  story.  These  grocers  had 
for  society  Monsieur  and  Madame  Cochin,  Adolphe 
Cochin,  Madame  Desroches,  a  little  Popinot,  a  drug- 
gist exercising  his  profession,  who  brought  them 
the  news  of  the  Rue  des  Lombards — a  man  of  your 
acquaintance,  Finot. — Madame  Matifat,  who  loved 
the  arts,  bought  lithographs,  chromo-lithographs, 
colored  designs,  everything  that  was  of  the  cheap- 
est. The  Sieur  Matifat  interested  himself  in 
watching  new  enterprises  and  in  endeavoring  to 
speculate  with  some  funds  in  order  to  experience 
some  emotion — Florine  had  cured  him  of  the  styles 
of  the  Regency. — A  single  word  will  enable  you  to 
comprehend  the  profundity  of  my  Matifat.  The 
good  man  bade  his  nieces  good-night  in  these  words: 
'Go  thou  to  bed,  my  nieces!'  He  was  afraid,  he 
said,  to  hurt  their  feelings  by  saying  you  to  them. 
Their  daughter  was  a  young  person  without  any 
manners,  with  the  appearance  of  a  waiting-maid 
in  a  good  house,  playing  a  sonata  indifferently  well, 
with  a  pretty  English  hand-writing,  knowing  French 
and  orthography,  in  short,  a  complete  bourgeois  edu- 
cation. She  was  sufficiently  impatient  to  be  married, 
in  order  to  be  able  to  leave  the  paternal  mansion,  in 
which  she  was  as  much  bored  as  a  naval  officer 


68  THE  HOUSE  OF  NUCINGEN 

during  a  night-watch ;  it  must  be  said  that  the  watch 
here  lasted  the  whole  day.  Desroches  or  Cochin's 
son,  a  notary  or  a  Garde  du  Corps,  an  imitation 
English  lord,  any  husband  would  do  for  her.  As 
she  evidently  knew  nothing  of  life,  I  took  pity  on 
her ;  I  wished  to  reveal  to  her  its  great  mystery. 
Bah !  the  Matifats  shut  their  door  on  me :  the  bour- 
geois and  I,  we  shall  never  comprehend  each  other." 

"She  married  General  Gouraud,"  said  Finot. 

"In  forty-eight  hours,  Godefroid  de  Beaudenord, 
the  ex-diplomat,  had  taken  the  measure  of  the  Mati- 
fats and   their     intriguing    corruption,"     resumed 
Bixiou.    "As  it  happened,  Rastignac  was  present  in 
the  house  of  the  light  baroness,  talking,  at  a  corner  of 
the  fire,  while  Godefroid  made  his  report  to  Malvina. 
Some  words  reached  his  ear,  he  guessed  at  the  sub- 
ject under  discussion,  especially  because  of  the  bit- 
terly satisfied  air  of  Malvina.     Rastignac  remained 
there  until  two  o'clock  in  the  morning,— and  people 
said  that  he  was  egotistical !    Beaudenord  left  when 
the  baroness  went  to  bed.    ' Dear  child, '  said  Rastig- 
nac to  Malvina,  in  a  good-humored  and  paternal  tone, 
when  they  were  alone, 'remember  that  a  poor  fellow 
heavy  with  sleep  has  kept  himself  awake  with  tea 
until  two  o'clock  in  the  morning  in  order  to  be  able 
to  say  to    you   solemnly:    Get  married.     Do   not 
raise  any  difficulties,  do  not  concern  yourself  with 
feelings,  do  not  think  of  the  ignoble  calculations  of 
men  who  have  one  foot  here  and  one  foot  at  the 
Matifats,  reflect  on   nothing:   get  married!     For  a 
girl  to  get  married,  that  is  to  impose  herself  on  a 


THE   HOUSE  OF  NUCINGEN  69 

man  who  engages  to  support  her  in  a  position  more 
or  less  happy,  but  in  which  the  material  question 
is  assured.  1  know  the  world:  young  girls,  mam- 
mas and  grandmothers  are  all  hypocrites  in  making 
so  much  ado  about  feelings  when  it  is  a  question  of 
marriage.  No  one  thinks  of  any  other  thing  than 
being  well-established.  When  her  daughter  is  well 
married,  a  mother  says  that  she  has  done  an  excel- 
lent thing.'  And  Rastignac  proceeded  to  develop  to 
her  his  theory  upon  marriage,  which,  according  to 
him,  is  a  commercial  society  instituted  to  support 
life.  'I  do  not  ask  your  secret,'  said  he,  in  conclu- 
sion, to  Malvina,  '1  know  it.  Men  talk  about  every- 
thing among  themselves,  just  as  you  do  when  you 
go  out  after  dinner.  Well,  then,  this  is  my  last 
word:  Get  married.  If  you  do  not  get  married, 
remember  that  I  begged  you  here,  this  evening,  to 
get  married!'  Rastignac  spoke  with  a  certain 
accent  which  commanded,  not  attention,  but  reflec- 
tion. His  insistence  was  of  a  nature  to  surprise. 
Malvina  was  so  much  struck  with  it  in  her  keenest 
intelligence,  which  Rastignac  wished  to  reach,  that 
she  was  still  thinking  of  it  the  next  day,  and  un- 
availingly  sought  to  discover  the  reason  for  this 
advice." 

"I  do  not  see  in  all  these  peg-tops  which  you  set 
off,  anything  which  resembles  the  origin  of  Ras- 
tignac's  fortune,  and  you  take  us  for  the  Matifats 
multiplied  by  six  bottles  of  champagne!"  cried 
Couture. 

"We  are  there,"   replied    Bixiou.      "You  have 


70  THE  HOUSE  OF  NUCINGEN 

followed  the  course  of  all  the  little  streams  which 
have  made  the  forty  thousand  francs  of  income 
which  so  many  people  envy!  Rastignac  then  held 
in  his  hands  the  thread  of  all  these  existences." 

"Desroches,  the  Matifats,  Beaudenord,  the 
d'Aldriggers,  d'Aiglemont?" 

"And  of  a  hundred  others! — "  said  Bixiou. 

"Well,  now,  how?"  cried  Finot.  "I  know  a  good 
many  things,  and  I  do  not  see  the  answer  to  this 
enigma." 

"Blondet  has  described  to  you  briefly  the  first 
two  liquidations  of  Nucingen,  here  is  the  third  in 
detail,"  resumed  Bixiou.  "At  the  Peace  of  1815, 
Nucingen  had  comprehended  that  which  we  only 
understand  to-day, — that  money  is  a  power  only 
when  it  is  in  disproportionate  quantities.  He  was 
secretly  jealous  of  the  brothers  Rothschild.  He 
possessed  five  millions,  he  wished  to  have  ten! 
With  ten  millions  he  would  know  how  to  gain 
thirty,  and  with  five  he  would  only  have  fifteen. 
He  had  therefore  resolved  to  bring  about  a  third 
liquidation !  This  great  man  consequenty  planned  to 
pay  his  creditors  with  fictitious  values  while  keep- 
ing their  money.  On  the  exchanges,  an  operation 
of  this  kind  does  not  present  itself  in  quite  such  a 
mathematical  expression.  A  liquidation  of  this  kind 
consists  in  giving  a  little  pate  for  a  golden  louis  to 
big  children,  who,  like  the  little  children  formerly, 
preferred  the  pate  to  the  coin,  without  knowing  that 
for  the  coin  they  could  have  two  hundred  pates." 

"What  is  it  you  are  saying  to  us,  Bixiou?"  cried 


THE  HOUSE  OF  NUCINGEN  71 

Couture,  "but  nothing  is  more  fair,  there  is  not  a 
week  goes  by  nowadays  without  some  one  pre- 
senting pates  to  the  public  and  demanding  a  louis 
for  each.  But  is  the  public  forced  to  give  its 
money?  has  it  not  the  right  to  inform  itself?" 

"You  would  like  it  better  if  compelled  to  buy  its 
shares  of  stock,"  said  Blondet. 

"No,"  said  Finot,  "or  where  would  be  our 
smartness?" 

"That  is  very  good  for  Finot,"  said  Bixiou. 

"Who  gave  him  that  idea?"  asked  Couture. 

"In  short,"  resumed  Bixiou,  "Nucingen  had  had 
on  two  occasions  the  happinesses  of  giving,  without 
intending  it,  a  pate  which  came  to  possess  more 
value  than  he  had  received.  This  unlucky  good 
fortune  had  caused  him  remorse.  Happiness  such 
as  this,  ends  by  killing  a  man.  He  waited  during 
ten  years  for  an  occasion  in  which  he  would  not 
deceive  himself,  in  which  to  create  values  that 
should  have  the  appearance  of  being  worth  some- 
thing and  which — " 

"But,"  said  Couture,  "with  this  explanation  of 
banking,  no  commerce  is  possible.  More  than  one 
honest  banker  has  persuaded,  under  the  approval  of 
a  loyal  government,  the  most  able  treasurers  to 
accept  funds  which  in  the  course  of  time  have 
become  depreciated.  You  have  seen  better  than 
that!  Have  there  not  been  issued,  always  with  the 
advice,  with  the  support  of  governments,  securities 
with  which  to  pay  the  interest  of  certain  funds,  in 
order  to  maintain  their  circulation  and  to  enable 


72  THE   HOUSE  OF  NUCINGEN 

them  to  be  disposed  of?  These  operations  have 
more  or  less  analogy  with  liquidation  in  the  manner 
of  Nucingen. " 

"In  small  affairs,"  said  Blondet,  "the  transac- 
tion might  appear  singular;  but  on  a  great  scale  it 
is  high  financiering.  There  are  certain  arbitrary 
acts  which  are  criminal  between  individuals,  but 
which  amount  to  nothing  when  they  are  expanded 
through  any  multitude  whatever,  like  a  drop  of 
Prussic  acid  which  becomes  harmless  in  a  tub  of 
water.  You  kill  a  man  and  you  are  guillotined. 
But,  with  any  governmental  conviction  whatever, 
you  kill  five  hundred  men,  the  political  crime  is 
respected.  You  take  five  thousand  francs  from  my 
writing-desk,  you  go  to  the  galleys.  But,  with  the 
pimento  of  a  profit  to  make,  skilfully  put  in  the 
mouths  of  a  thousand  purse-holders,  you  force  them 
to  take  the  stocks  of  1-know-not-what  republic  or 
monarchy  in  default,  issued,  as  Couture  says,  to 
pay  the  interest  of  these  same  stocks, — no  one  can 
complain.  These  are  the  true  principles  of  the  age 
of  gold  in  which  we  live!" 

"The  setting  in  operation  of  so  vast  a  ma- 
chine," resumed  Bixiou,  "required  a  great  many 
Punchinellos.  In  the  first  place,  the  house  of  Nucin- 
gen had  knowingly,  and  with  design,  employed  its 
five  millions  in  an  American  enterprise,  the  profits  of 
which  had  been  calculated  in  such  a  manner  as  to 
come  in  too  late.  They  had  been  put  out  of  the 
way  with  premeditation.  Every  liquidation  should 
be  justified.    The  bank  possessed  in  individual  funds 


THE   HOUSE  OF  NUCINGEN  73 

and  in  values  issued  about  six  millions.  Among  the 
individual  funds  were  the  three  hundred  thousand 
francs  of  the  Baroness  d'Aldrigger,  the  four  hundred 
thousand  of  Beaudenord,  a  million  belonging  to 
d'Aiglemont,  three  hundred  thousand  francs  to 
Matifat,  a  half  million  to  Charles  Grandet,  the  hus- 
band of  Mademoiselle  d'Aubrion,  etc.  If  he  had 
created  himself  some  industrial  enterprise  with  the 
shares  of  which  he  proposed  to  satisfy  his  creditors 
by  means  of  manoeuvres  more  or  less  skilful, 
Nucingen  might  have  been  suspected,  but  he  went 
about  it  with  much  more  adroitness;  he  caused  it  to 
be  created  by  another! — that  machine  destined  to 
play  the  part  which  the  Mississippi  did  in  the  sys- 
tem of  Law.  The  peculiar  quality  of  Nucingen 
is  to  make  the  most  able  negotiators  serve  his 
projects  without  communicating  his  own  to  them. 
Nucingen  accordingly  let  slip  before  Du  Tillet  a 
suggestion  of  this  pyramidal  and  victorious  scheme 
of  getting  up  an  enterprise  by  subscription  with  a 
capital  sufficiently  large  to  pay  very  heavy  interest 
to  the  shareholders  at  first.  If  tried  for  the  first 
time,  at  a  period  when  there  was  an  abundance  of 
credulous  capital,  this  combination  should  bring 
about  a  rise  in  the  shares,  and  consequently  a  bene- 
fit for  the  banker  who  issued  them.  Remember 
that  this  was  in  1826.  Although  struck  with  this 
idea,  fruitful  as  ingenious,  Du  Tillet  naturally 
reflected  that,  if  the  enterprise  did  not  succeed,  there 
would  be  some  blame  laid  somewhere.  Therefore, 
he  would    suggest    putting    forward  some    visible 


74  THE   HOUSE  OF  NUCINGEN 

director  for  this  commercial  machine.  You  know 
to-day  the  secret  of  the  house  of  Claparon,  founded 
by  Du  Tillet,  one  of  his  finest  inventions! — " 

"Yes,"  said  Blondet,  "the  responsible  financial 
editor,  the  agent  that  prepares  the  way,  the  scape- 
goat; but,  to-day,  we  are  more  clever,  we  put  out: 
'Address  the  Management  of  the  thing,  such  a  street, 
such  a  number,'  where  the  public  will  find  employes 
in  green  caps,  pretty  as  bailiff's  men." 

"Nucingen  had  supported  the  house  of  Charles 
Claparon  with  all  his  credit,"  resumed  Bixiou.  "A 
million  of  the  paper  of  Claparon  could  be  issued 
without  any  fear  on  some  exchanges.  Du  Tillet 
proposed,  therefore,  to  bring  the  house  of  Claparon 
forward.  Adopted.  In  1825,  the  shareholder  was 
not  spoiled  in  industrial  enterprises.  The  funds 
destined  to  provide  for  running  expenses  were  un- 
known! The  directors  did  not  undertake  to  ever 
issue  their  interest-bearing  shares;  they  deposited 
nothing  in  the  Bank  of  France,  they  guaranteed 
nothing.  The  shareholder  could  not  expect  to  have 
the  workings  of  the  company  explained  to  him  when 
informed  that  he  was  fortunate  in  not  having  more 
than  a  thousand,  or  more  than  five  hundred,  or  even 
two  hundred  and  fifty  francs  demanded  of  him  !  It 
was  not  published  that  the  experience  in  cere  publico 
would  only  endure  for  seven  years,  five  years  or 
even  three  years,  and  that  therefore  the  denouement 
would  not  have  to  be  long  waited  for.  It  was  the 
infancy  of  the  art!  There  had  not  even  been  called 
in  the  publicity  of  those  gigantic  announcements  by 


THE  HOUSE  OF  NUCINGEN  75 

which  imaginations  are  now  stimulated,  by  demand- 
ing money  from  everyone — " 

"This  happens  when  no  one  wishes  to  subscribe, " 
said  Couture. 

"In  short,  the  competition  in  this  sort  of  enter- 
prises did  not  exist,"  resumed  Bixiou.  "The 
manufacturers  of  papier-mache,  of  printed  calicoes, 
the  rollers  of  zinc,  the  theatres,  the  newspapers, 
did  not  throw  themselves  in  like  dogs  of  the  chase 
at  'the  death'  of  the  expiring  shareholder.  The 
fine  affairs  by  subscription,  as  Couture  says,  so 
ingenuously  published,  supported  by  the  reports  of 
experts— the  princes  of  science! — were  then  trans- 
acted shamefacedly  in  the  silence  and  in  the  obscur- 
ity of  the  Bourse.  The  monetary  lynxes  executed, 
financially  speaking,  the  air  of  the  Calumny  of 
the  Barber  of  Seville.  They  went  piano,  piano, 
proceeding  by  light  cancans,  on  the  good  qualities 
of  the  enterprise,  spoken  from  ear  to  ear.  They  did 
not  exploit  the  patient,  the  shareholder,  only  at  his 
house,  at  the  Bourse,  or  in  society,  by  that  rumor 
skilfully  created,  and  which  increased  to  the  tntti  of 
a  number  of  four  figures — " 

"But,  since  we  are  among  ourselves  and  can  say 
anything,  I  return  to  our  subject,"  said  Couture. 

"You  are  a  goldsmith,  Monsieur  Josse!"  said 
Finot. 

"Finot  will  remain  classical,  constitutional,  and 
bewigged, "  said  Blondet. 

"Yes,  1  am  a  goldsmith,"  resumed  Couture,  "see- 
ing that  Cerizet  has  been  condemned  by  the  police 


76  THE  HOUSE  OF  NUCINGEN 

tribunals.  I  maintain  that  the  new  method  is 
infinitely  less  treacherous,  more  honest,  less  assas- 
sinating, than  the  old  one.  The  publicity  allows 
of  reflection  and  examination.  If  any  stock- 
holder is  gullible,  he  comes  to  it  deliberately;  he 
has  not  been  made  to  purchase  'a  pig  in  a  poke.' 
Industry — " 

"Ah!  now  we  are  coming  to  industry!"  cried 
Bixiou. 

"Industry  would  profit  by  it,"  said  Couture, 
without  paying  any  attention  to  the  interruption. 
"Every  government  that  interferes  with  commerce 
and  does  not  leave  it  unrestricted,  undertakes  a 
costly  folly;  it  brings  about  either  the  maximum  or 
the  monopoly.  To  my  thinking,  nothing  is  more 
conformable  to  the  principles  of  the  liberty  of  com- 
merce than  the  societies  of  shareholders!  To 
meddle  with  them,  is  to  answer  for  both  capital 
and  profits,  which  is  stupid.  In  every  transaction, 
the  profits  are  in  proportion  to  the  risks!  What 
matters  it  to  the  state  the  manner  in  which  is 
brought  about  the  free  circulation  of  money,  pro- 
vided that  it  be  kept  in  perpetual  activity?  What 
matter  who  is  rich,  who  is  poor,  if  there  is  always 
the  same  quantity  of  taxable  wealth  ?  Moreover,  for 
the  last  twenty  years  the  societies  of  shareholders, 
stock-companies,  premiums  under  all  possible 
forms,  have  been  in  use  in  the  most  commer- 
cial country  in  the  world,  in  England,  where  every- 
thing is  disputed,  where  Parliament  hatches  out  a 
thousand  or  twelve  hundred  laws  each  session,  and 


THE   HOUSE  OF  NUCINGEN  77 

where  a  member  of  either  House  has  never  risen  to 
speak  against  the  method — " 

"Curative  for  full  coffers,  and  a  vegetarian  one!" 
said  Bixiou;  "carrots!"  * 

"Come  now!"  said  Couture,  excitedly.  "You 
have  ten  thousand  francs,  you  take  ten  shares  of  a 
thousand  each  in  ten  different  enterprises.  You  are 
robbed  nine  times — this  is  not  so!  the  public  is 
wiser  than  any  one  person !  but  1  make  the  suppo- 
sition— one  enterprise  alone  succeeds — by  chance ! — 
agreed! — it  has  not  been  made  expressly! — oh,  go 
ahead!  talk  nonsense! — Well,  the  punter  who  is 
wise  enough  thus  to  divide  up  his  forces  will  find  a 
superb  investment,  as  did  those  who  took  the  shares 
of  the  mines  of  Wortschin.  Messieurs,  let  us  admit 
among  ourselves  that  the  people  who  cry  out  are  the 
hypocrites  in  despair  at  having  neither  the  concep- 
tion of  an  enterprise,  nor  the  power  to  proclaim  it, 
nor  the  skill  to  exploit  it.  The  proof  will  not  long 
be  waited  for.  In  a  little  while  you  will  see  the 
aristocracy,  the  people  of  the  Court,  the  ministeri- 
alists, descending  in  solid  columns  into  business 
speculations,  and  reaching  out  hands  more  grasping 
and  finding  more  tortuous  ideas  than  ours,  without 
having  our  superiority.  What  a  head  it  requires 
to  set  on  foot  a  good  enterprise  at  an  epoch  in 
which  the  avidity  of  the  shareholder  is  equal  to  that 
of  the  inventor !  What  a  great  magnetizer  must  be 
the  man  who  creates  a  Claparon,  who  finds  new 
expedients!     Do  you  know  the  moral  of  all  this? 

*  Carotte,  a  trick  for  obtaining  money  by  skill  or  deception. 


78  THE  HOUSE  OF  NUCINGEN 

Our  time  is  no  better  than  we  are!  We  live  in  an 
epoch  of  avidity  in  which  no  one  concerns  himself 
about  the  value  of  a  thing,  provided  he  can  make 
something  on  it  and  pass  it  on  to  his  neighbor;  and 
it  is  passed  on  to  the  neighbor  because  the  avidity 
of  the  shareholder,  who  hopes  for  a  profit,  is  equal 
to  that  of  the  founder  who  proposed  one  to  him !" 

"Isn't  he  fine,  Couture,  isn't  he  fine!"  said 
Bixiou  to  Blondet;  "he  is  going  to  ask  that  statues 
be  erected  to  him,  as  to  a  benefactor  of  humanity." 

"It  will  be  necessary  to  bring  him  to  conclude 
that  the  money  of  fools  is,  by  right  divine,  the 
patrimony  of  clever  men,"  said  Blondet. 

"Messieurs,"  resumed  Couture,  "let  us  laugh 
here  in  return  for  the  seriousness  which  we  preserve 
elsewhere,  when  we  hear  uttered  the  respectable 
stupidities  which  consecrate  the  laws  made  without 
forethought." 

"He  is  right.  What  a  time,  Messieurs,"  said 
Blondet,  "is  that  in  which  as  soon  as  the  fire  of 
intelligence  appears  it  is  quickly  extinguished  by 
the  application  of  a  circumstantial  law!  The  legis- 
lators, nearly  all  of  them  come  from  little  arron- 
dissements  where  they  have  made  their  social 
studies  in  the  newspapers,  put  the  fire  in  the  engine. 
When  the  engine  blows  up,  then  there  are  tears  and 
grindings  of  teeth!  A  time  in  which  the  only  laws 
made  are  fiscal  and  penal !  The  true  word  of  all  that 
happens,  do  you  wish  to  know  it!  'There  is  no 
longer  any  religion  in  the  state! '  " 

"Ah!"  said  Bixiou,  "bravo,  Blondet!    you  have 


THE   HOUSE  OF  NUCINGEN 


79 


put  your  finger  on  the  tender  spot  of  France, — the 
code  of  fiscal  laws,  which  has  taken  more  conquests 
from  our  country  than  all  the  vexations  of  war.  In 
the  ministry  where  I  served  seven  years  at  the 
galleys,  yoked  with  the  bourgeois,  there  was  an 
employe,  a  man  of  talent,  who  had  resolved  to  change 
the  entire  financial  system— ah !  well,  we  very  soon 
dismissed  him.  France  had  been  too  happy,  she 
would  have  amused  herself  by  reconquering  Europe, 
and  we  acted  in  the  interest  of  the  repose  of  nations. 
1  killed  Rabourdin  by  a  caricature!" — See  The 
Civil  Service. 

"When  1  said  religion,  I  did  not  mean  to  say  a 
stupid  Capuchin's  sermon;!  understand  the  word 
in  a  grand  political  sense,"  resumed  Blondet. 

"Explain  yourself,"  said  Finot. 

"In  this  way,"  continued  Blondet.  "There  has 
been  much  talk  of  the  affairs  at  Lyons,  of  the 
Republic  cannonaded  in  the  streets;  no  one  has  told 
the  truth.  The  Republic  took  possession  of  the  riot 
just  as  an  insurgent  grasps  a  gun.  The  real  truth, 
I  will  give  it  to  you,  both  absurd  and  profound. 
The  commerce  of  Lyons  is  a  commerce  without  any 
soul,  which  does  not  manufacture  a  yard  of  silk 
unless  it  is  ordered  and  unless  the  payment  is  sure. 
When  the  orders  cease,  the  workman  dies  of  hunger ; 
he  earns  with  difficulty  enough  to  live  on  when  he 
works.  The  galley  slaves  are  happier  than  he. 
After  the  Revolution  of  July,  the  misery  reached 
such   a   point  that  the  CANUTS*  hoisted  the  flag, 

*  Canut,  operative  in  the  silk  factories  of  Lyons. 


80  THE  HOUSE  OF  NUCINGEN 

'Bread  or  death!'  one  of  those  proclamations  which 
the  government  should  study ;  it  was  produced  by  the 
dearness  of  living  at  Lyons.  Lyons  wished  to  build 
theatres  and  to  become  a  capital,  hence  came  sense- 
less octroi  duties.  The  Republicans  scented  this 
revolt  in  the  cause  of  bread,  and  they  organized  the 
Camds,  who  fought  in  two  parties.  Lyons  has  had 
its  three  days,  but  everything  has  returned  to  order 
and  the  Canut  into  his  hole.  The  Canut,  honest  up 
to  this  period,  returning  in  the  woven  stuff  the  silk 
which  was  weighed  out  to  him  in  hanks,  has  turned 
his  honesty  out  of  the  door,  believing  that  the  mer- 
chant had  victimized  him,  and  has  put  oil  on  his 
fingers, — he  has  returned  weight  for  weight,  but  he 
had  sold  oil  represented  as  silk,  and  the  trade  in 
French  silks  has  been  infested  with  'loaded  silks,' 
which  may  bring  about  the  destruction  of  Lyons 
and  that  of  a  branch  of  the  commerce  of  France. 
The  manufacturers  and  the  government,  instead  of 
suppressing  the  cause  of  the  evil,  have,  like  certain 
physicians,  driven  in  the  disease  by  a  violent 
topical  remedy.  There  should  have  been  sent  to 
Lyons  a  skilful  man,  one  of  those  who  are  called 
immoral,  an  Abbe  Terray,  but  the  situation  was 
looked  at  only  from  the  military  point  of  view! 
The  troubles,  therefore,  have  produced  gros-grain  at 
forty  sous  the  aune.  This  gros-grain,  it  can  be 
said,  is  sold  to-day,  and  the  manufacturers  have 
doubtless  invented  I  know  not  what  system  of  veri- 
fication. This  method  of  manufacture  without  fore- 
thought  is  naturally  established   in  a  country   in 


THE  HOUSE  OF  NUCINGEN  8l 

which  Richard  Lenoir,  one  of  the  greatest  citizens 
which  France  ever  had,  had  ruined  himself  by  giving 
employment  to  six  thousand  workmen  without 
any  orders,  by  supporting  them,  and  had  found 
ministers  stupid  enough  to  let  him  succumb  to  the 
revolution  which  1814  brought  about  in  the  price  of 
stuffs.  This  is  the  only  case  in  which  a  merchant 
has  merited  a  statue.  Well,  this  man  is  to-day  the 
object  of  the  subscription  to  which  there  are  no  sub- 
scribers, whilst  a  million  has  been  raised  for  the 
children  of  General  Foy.  Lyons  is  consistent;  it 
knows  France ;  it  is  without  any  religious  sentiment 
The  story  of  Richard  Lenoir  is  one  of  those  faults 
which  Fouche  found  to  be  worse  than  a  crime." 

"If  in  the  manner  in  which  affairs  present  them- 
selves," resumed  Couture,  going  back  to  the  point 
where  he  was  before  the  interruption,  "there  is  a 
tinge  of  charlatanism,  a  word  which  has  become  dis- 
honoring and  set  astride  the  partition-wall  between 
the  just  and  the  unjust,  I  demand  where  com- 
mences, or  where  finishes,  charlatanism,  what  is 
charlatanism  ?  Have  the  kindness  to  tell  me  who  is 
not  a  charlatan?  Come,  now,  let  us  have  a  little 
good  faith,  the  rarest  social  ingredient!  That  com- 
merce which  should  consist  in  going  to  seek  at 
night  that  which  could  be  sold  in  the  day  would 
be  nonsense.  A  seller  of  matches  has  the  instinct 
of  monopoly.  To  monopolize  merchandise  is  the 
idea  of  the  shop-keeper  of  the  Rue  Saint-Denis, 
called  the  most  virtuous,  as  of  the  speculator  called 
the  most  shameless.  When  the  stores  are  full,  there 
6 


82  THE  HOUSE  OF  NUCINGEN 

is  a  necessity  to  sell.  To  sell,  it  is  necessary  to 
excite  the  customer,  hence  the  sign  of  the 
Middle  Ages  and  the  advertisement  of  to-day! 
Between  calling  in  the  customers  and  forcing  them 
to  enter,  to  purchase,  I  do  not  see  the  difference  of 
a  hair!  It  may  happen,  it  should  happen,  it  often 
does  happen,  that  merchants  get  caught  with  dam- 
aged merchandise,  for  the  seller  is  incessantly 
cheating  the  buyer.  Well,  consult  the  most  honest 
people  in  Paris,  the  distinguished  merchants,  in 
short,— they  will  all  relate  to  you  triumphantly  the 
trick  which  they  have  invented  to  get  rid  of  their 
merchandise  when  it  has  been  sold  to  them  in  a 
damaged  condition.  The  famous  House  of  Minard 
commenced  by  sales  of  this  description.  The  Rue 
Saint-Denis  will  only  sell  you  a  dress  of  loaded 
silk;  it  has  no  other.  The  most  virtuous  merchant 
will  repeat  to  you  with  the  most  candid  air  this 
phrase  of  the  most  brazen  dishonesty:  'You  get 
out  of  a  bad  bargain  the  best  way  you  can.'  Blon- 
det  has  shown  you  the  affair  of  Lyons  in  its  causes 
and  in  its  consequences;  for  my  part,  I  will  get  to 
the  application  of  my  theory  by  an  anecdote.  A 
workman  in  wool,  ambitious  and  overloaded  with 
children  by  a  wife  too  much  loved,  believes  in  the 
Republic.  My  fine  fellow  bought  a  lot  of  red  wool 
and  made  these  caps  in  knitted  wool  which  you  may 
have  seen  on  the  heads  of  all  the  gamins  of  Paris, 
and  you  will  know  why.  The  Republic  was  over- 
come. After  the  affair  of  Saint-Merri,  the  caps  were 
unsalable.     When  a  workman  finds  himself  in  his 


THE   HOUSE  OF  NUCINGEN  83 

household  with  a  wife,  children  and  ten  thousand 
red  woolen  caps  which  no  hatter  on  any  shore 
wants,  there  come  into  his  head  as  many  ideas  as 
would  present  themselves  to  a  banker  loaded  with 
ten  millions  of  shares  to  place  in  an  enterprise  which 
he  mistrusts.  Do  you  know  what  he  did,  this  work- 
man, this  Law  of  the  Faubourgs,  this  Nucingen 
of  caps?  He  hunted  up  a  dandy  of  the  taverns, 
one  of  those  fellows  who  are  the  despair  of  the 
police  sergeants  in  the  Bals  Champetres  of  the  bar- 
riers, and  requested  him  to  play  the  part  of  an 
American  captain  trading  in  colonial  goods,  stop- 
ping at  the  Hotel  Meurice,  to  go  and  inquire  for  ten 
thousand  red  woolen  caps  at  the  establishment  of  a 
rich  hatter  who  had  still  one  of  them  in  his  stock. 
The  hatter  foresaw  a  large  transaction  in  America, 
he  hastened  to  the  workman  and  eagerly  took  pos- 
session of  all  the  caps,  cash  down.  You  understand, 
— no  more  American  captain,  but  a  great  many  caps. 
To  attack  commercial  liberty  because  of  these  in- 
conveniences, would  be  to  attack  justice  under 
the  pretext  that  there  are  delinquencies  which  it 
does  not  punish,  or  to  accuse  society  of  being  badly 
organized  because  of  the  misfortunes  to  which  it 
gives  rise!  From  caps  and  the  Rue  Saint-Denis  to 
shares  of  stock  and  the  Bank  of  France,  draw  your 
own  conclusions!" 

"Couture,  a  crown!"  said  Blondet,  placing  on  his 
head  his  twisted  napkin.  "1  go  farther,  Messieurs. 
If  there  be  a  vice  in  the  actual  theory,  whose  is  the 
fault?   that  of  the  law!    the  law  considered  in  its 


84  THE  HOUSE  OF  NUCINGEN 

entire  system,  legislation !  of  those  great  men  of  the 
arrondissements  whom  the  provinces  send  puffed  up 
with  moral  ideas,  ideas  indispensable  in  the  conduct 
of  life,  at  least  to  combat  by  the  side  of  justice,  but 
stupid  as  soon  as  they  prevent  a  man  from  lifting 
himself  to  the  height  at  which  the  legislator  should 
maintain  himself.  Though  the  laws  may  forbid  to  the 
passions  such  or  such  a  development— gambling,  the 
lottery,  the  Ninons  of  the  barriers,  whatever  you 
like, — they  will  never  extirpate  the  passions.  To 
kill  the  passions,  that  would  be  to  kill  society, 
which,  if  it  does  not  engender  them,  at  least  devel- 
ops them.  Thus,  if  you  fetter  with  restrictions 
the  desire  to  gamble  which  lurks  at  the  bottom  of 
every  heart,  that  of  the  young  girl,  that  of  the  man 
of  the  provinces,  as  in  that  of  a  diplomat,  for  all 
the  world  sighs  for  a  fortune  gratis,  gambling  will 
then  display  itself  in  other  spheres.  You  suppress 
the  lottery  stupidly;  the  cooks  will  not  the  less  steal 
from  their  masters,  they  will  carry  their  thefts  to 
the  savings-bank,  and  the  stake  is  for  them  two 
hundred  and  fifty  francs  instead  of  being  forty  sous, 
for  the  shares  in  industrial  enterprises,  the  stock- 
companies,  become  the  lottery,  the  play  without  the 
green  carpet,  but  with  an  invisible  rake  and  with 
a  calculated  success  for  the  bank.  The  gambling 
places  are  closed,  the  lottery  no  longer  exists,  behold 
France  much  more  moral,  exclaim  the  imbeciles, 
as  if  they  had  suppressed  the  punters!  Gambling 
still  goes  on,  only  the  benefit  no  longer  accrues  to 
the  state,  which  replaces  a  tax  paid  with  pleasure 


THE   HOUSE  OF  NUCINGEN  85 

by  a  vexatious  tax,  without  diminishing  the  num- 
ber of  suicides,  for  the  gambler  does  not  die,  but 
only  his  victim  !  I  do  not  say  anything  about  funds 
invested  abroad,  lost  to  France,  nor  of  the  lotteries 
of  Frankfort,  against  the  hawking  about  of  which 
the  Convention  proclaimed  the  death  penalty,  and 
to  which  the  procureurs-syndics  themselves  were 
addicted!  Here  you  may  see  the  sense  of  the  silly 
philanthropy  of  our  legislator.  The  encouragement 
given  to  the  savings-bank  is  a  gross  political  stu- 
pidity. Suppose  any  distrust  whatever  about  the 
conduct  of  affairs,  the  government  would  have  cre- 
ated la  queue*  de  I' argent  as  they  created  during 
the  Revolution,  la  queue  du  pain.  So  many 
savings-banks,  so  many  riots.  If,  in  a  corner,  three 
street  boys  set  up  a  solitary  flag,  you  will  have  a 
revolution.  But  this  danger,  however  great  it 
may  be,  seems  to  me  less  to  be  feared  than  that  of 
the  demoralization  of  the  people.  A  savings-bank 
is  the  inoculation  of  all  the  vices  engendered  by 
interest,  to  those  whom  neither  education  nor  reflec- 
tion restrain  in  their  tacitly  criminal  combinations. 
And  there  you  have  the  effects  of  philanthropy.  A 
great  politician  should  be  a  blackguard  in  the 
abstract;  without  which  societies  are  badly  con- 
ducted. A  politician  who  is  an  honest  man  is  a 
steam-engine  which  has  feelings,  or  a  pilot  who 
makes  love  while  at  the  helm, — the  vessel  founders. 
A  prime  minister  who  takes  a  hundred  millions 
and  who  renders  France  great  and  happy,  is  he  not 

*  Queue,  a  long  line  of  people  waiting  to  be  served. 


86  THE   HOUSE  OF  NUCINGEN 

to  be  preferred  to  a  minister  who  has  to  be  buried 
at  the  expense  of  the  state,  but  who  had  ruined  his 
country?  Between  Richelieu,  Mazarin,  Potemkin, 
all  three  of  them  possessed  at  certain  epochs  three 
hundred  millions,  and  the  virtuous  Robert  Lindet, 
who  did  not  know  enough  to  make  anything  either 
from  the  assignats,  nor  from  the  national  property, 
or  the  virtuous  imbeciles  who  ruined  Louis  XVI., 
would  you  hesitate?  Go  on  with  your  story, 
Bixiou." 

"I  will  not  explain  to  you,"  resumed  Bixiou, 
"the  nature  of  the  enterprise  invented  by  the  finan- 
cial genius  of  Nucingen,  it  would  be  all  the  more 
inconvenient,  as  it  is  still  existing  to-day ;  its  shares 
are  quoted  on  the  Bourse;  the  combinations  were 
so  real,  the  object  of  the  enterprise  so  permanent, 
that,  created  with  a  nominal  capital  of  a  thousand 
francs,  established  by  royal  ordinance,  fallen  to 
three  hundred  francs,  they  went  up  again  to  seven 
hundred,  and  will  arrive  at  par  after  having  tra- 
versed the  storms  of  the  years  '27,  '30  and  '32.  The 
financial  crisis  of  1827  made  them  shrink,  the  Rev- 
olution of  July  brought  them  down,  but  the  enter- 
prise is  sound  at  bottom — Nucingen  would  not  know 
how  to  invent  a  bad  affair  — In  short,  as  several 
first-class  banking  houses  have  participated  in  it, 
it  would  not  be  parliamentary  to  enter  more  into 
details.  The  nominal  capital  was  fixed  at  ten  mil- 
lions, the  real  capital  seven,  three  millions  were  to 
go  to  the  originators  and  to  the  bankers  who  had 
charge  of  the  issuing  of  the  shares.      Everything 


THE  HOUSE  OF  NUCINGEN  87 

was  calculated  so  as  to  cause  in  the  first  six  months 
each  share  to  gain  two  hundred  francs  by  the  dis- 
tribution of  a  fictitious  dividend.  Hence,  twenty 
per  cent  on  ten  millions.  The  interest  of  Du 
Tillet  amounted  to  five  hundred  thousand  francs. 
In  the  financial  vocabulary  this  gain  is  called  the 
glutton' s  part !  Nucingen  proposed  to  operate,  with 
his  millions  made  from  a  quire  of  pink  paper,  with 
the  aid  of  a  lithographic  stone,  some  nice  little 
marketable  shares,  preciously  preserved  in  his 
cabinet.  The  real  shares  would  go  to  help  estab- 
lish the  enterprise,  to  buy  a  magnificent  hotel 
and  commence  operations.  Nucingen  found  still 
other  shares  in  I-know-not-what  mines  of  silver- 
bearing  lead  ore,  in  oil  wells  and  in  two  canals, 
interest-bearing  shares  issued  to  aid  in  the  pre- 
sentation of  these  four  enterprises  in  full  activity, 
equipped  in  a  superior  manner  and  flourishing, 
thanks  to  the  dividend  drawn  on  the  capital. 
Nucingen  could  count  upon  an  agio  if  the  shares 
went  up,  but  the  baron  left  this  out  of  his  calcula- 
tions; he  allowed  it  to  remain  at  its  par  value, 
on  the  market,  in  order  to  attract  the  fish! 
He  had  thus  massed  his  funds,  as  Napoleon  massed 
his  troops,  in  order  to  be  able  to  liquidate  during 
the  crisis  which  was  revealing  itself  and  which  rev- 
olutionized, in  '26  and  '27,  the  European  markets. 
If  he  had  had  his  Prince  deWagram,  he  would  have 
been  able  to  say,  as  did  Napoleon  on  the  heights  of 
Santon:  'Examine the  locality  well ;  on  such  a  day, 
at  such   an   hour,  there  will  funds  be  scattered!' 


88  THE  HOUSE  OF  NUCINGEN 

But  in  whom  could  he  confide?  Du  Tillet  did  not 
suspect  his  involuntary  complicity.  His  first  two 
liquidations  had  demonstrated  to  our  puissant  baron 
the  necessity  of  attaching  to  himself  a  man  who 
could  serve  him  as  a  piston  to  act  on  the  creditor. 
Nucingen  had  no  nephew,  did  not  dare  to  take  a 
confidant;  he  required  a  devoted  man,  an  intelligent 
Claparon,  gifted  with  good  manners,  a  veritable 
diplomat,  a  man  worthy  of  being  a  minister  and 
worthy  of  him.  Such  connections  are  not  formed  in 
a  day  nor  in  a  year.  Rastignac  had  been  so  well 
twisted  up  by  the  baron,  that,  like  the  Prince  of 
the  Peace,  who  was  loved  as  much  by  the  king  as  by 
the  queen  of  Spain,  he  believed  he  had  conquered 
in  Nucingen  an  invaluable  dupe.  After  having 
laughed  at  a  man  whose  capacity  was  long  unknown 
to  him,  he  had  finished  by  vowing  to  him  a  grave 
and  serious  worship  in  recognizing  in  him  the 
strength  which  he  thought  he  alone  possessed. 
From  the  date  of  his  debut  in  Paris,  Rastignac  had 
been  led  to  despise  society  in  its  entirety.  From 
1820,  he  had  thought,  like  the  baron,  that  there 
were  only  apparently  honest  men,  and  he  regarded 
the  world  as  the  reunion  of  all  corruptions  and  of  all 
dishonesties.  If  he  admitted  exceptions,  he  con- 
demned the  mass;  he  did  not  believe  in  any  virtue, 
but  in  certain  circumstances  in  which  man  is  vir- 
tuous. This  science  was  the  result  of  a  moment;  it 
was  acquired  at  the  top  of  Pere-Lachaise,  the  day 
on  which  he  conducted  there  the  funeral  of  a  poor, 
honest  man,  the  father  of  his  Delphine,  who  had 


THE  HOUSE  OF  NUCINGEN  89 

died  the  dupe  of  our  society,  of  the  truest  feelings, 
and  abandoned  by  his  daughters  and  by  his  sons- 
in-law.  He  resolved  to  get  the  better  of  all  this 
world,  and  to  maintain  himself  in  a  fine  costume  of 
virtue,  of  probity,  of  beautiful  manners.  Egotism 
armed  this  young  noble  cap-a-pie.  When  he  met 
Nucingen  clothed  with  the  same  armor,  he  esteemed 
him  as,  in  the  Middle  Ages,  in  the  tournament,  a 
knight  in  damascene  steel  from  the  feet  to  the  head, 
mounted  on  a  war  horse,  would  esteem  his  adversary 
caparisoned  and  mounted  like  himself.  But  he 
softened  for  a  while  in  the  delights  of  Capua.  The 
friendship  of  a  woman  like  the  Baroness  de  Nucin- 
gen is  of  a  nature  to  banish  all  egotism.  After  hav- 
ing been  deceived  a  first  time  in  her  affections  by 
meeting  a  piece  of  Birmingham  mechanism,  such 
as  was  the  late  De  Marsay,  Delphine  naturally  felt 
for  a  man  young  and  full  of  the  religious  sentiment 
of  the  provinces,  an  attachment  without  bounds. 
This  tenderness  reacted  on  Rastignac.  When 
Nucingen  had  passed  over  to  his  wife's  friend  the 
harness  which  every  exploiter  puts  on  his  exploitee, 
which  happened  precisely  at  the  moment  when  he 
was  meditating  his  third  liquidation,  he  confided  to 
him  his  position,  presenting  to  him,  as  an  obligation 
growing  out  of  his  intimacy,  as  a  reparation,  the 
role  of  accomplice  to  take  up  and  to  play.  The 
baron  thought  it  dangerous  to  initiate  his  conjugal 
collaborator  into  his  plan.  Rastignac  feared  a  misfor- 
tune, and  the  baron  let  him  believe  that  he  might 
save  the  shop.     But,    when   a  skein  has  so  many 


cp  THE  HOUSE  OF  NUCINGEN 

threads,  there  are  sure  to  be  knots.  Rastignac 
trembled  for  the  fortune  of  Delphine;  he  stipulated 
for  the  independence  of  the  baroness,  requiring  a 
separation  of  property,  swearing  to  himself  to  join 
his  account  with  hers  and  triple  her  fortune.  As 
Eugene  did  not  speak  for  himself,  Nucingen  begged 
him  to  accept,  in  case  of  complete  success,  twenty- 
five  shares  of  a  thousand  francs  each  in  the  mines 
of  silver-bearing  lead  ore,  which  Rastignac  took  so 
as  not  to  offend  him!  Nucingen  taught  Rastignac 
his  tunes  the  evening  before  the  day  in  which  our 
friend  advised  Malvina  to  get  married.  At  the 
sight  of  the  hundred  happy  families  who  came  and 
went  in  Paris  tranquil  in  the  possession  of  their  for- 
tunes, the  Godefroid  de  Beaudenords,  the  d'Aldrig- 
gers,  the  d'Aiglemonts,  etc.,  Rastignac  was  seized 
with  a  shiver  like  a  young  general  who  for  the  first 
time  contemplates  an  army  before  the  battle.  The 
poor  little  Isaure  and  Godefroid,  playing  at  love,  did 
they  not  represent  Acis  and  Galatea  under  the  rock 
which  the  great  Polyphemus  is  about  to  tumble  on 
them?—" 

"This  monkey  of  a  Bixiou,"  said  Blondet,  "he 
has  almost  a  talent." 

"Ah!  1  am  not  sentimentalizing,  then,  any 
more?"  said  Bixiou,  enjoying  his  success,  and 
looking  at  his  surprised  auditors. — "During  two 
months,"  he  resumed,  after  this  interruption, 
"Godefroid  gave  himself  up  to  all  the  little  hap- 
pinesses of  a  man  who  is  about  to  marry.  He 
resembles  at  this  period  those  birds  who  make  their 


THE   HOUSE   OF  NUC1NGEN  91 

nests  in  springtime,  come  and  go,  pick  up  straws, 
carry  them  in  their  beaks,  and  line  the  domicile 
of  their  eggs.  The  future  husband  of  Isaure  had 
taken  in  the  Rue  de  la  Planche  a  little  hotel  for  a 
thousand  ecus,  commodious,  suitable,  neither  too 
large  nor  too  small.  He  went  every  morning  to  see 
the  workmen  working  and  to  inspect  the  painting. 
He  had  introduced  comfort  there,  the  only  good  thing 
that  there  is  in  England, — a  heater  to  maintain  an 
equal  temperature  in  the  house;  furniture  well 
chosen,  neither  too  brilliant  nor  too  elegant;  colors 
fresh  and  pleasant  to  the  eye,  interior  and  exterior 
blinds  to  all  the  windows ;  silverware,  new  carriages. 
He  had  arranged  the  stable,  the  harness-house,  the 
carriage-house,  where  Toby,  Joby,  Paddy  agitated 
himself,  fidgeting  about  like  a  marmot  unchained, 
and  apparently  delighted  to  know  that  there  would  be 
women  in  the  household  and  a  lady!  This  passion 
of  the  man  who  sets  up  housekeeping,  who  selects 
clocks,  who  comes  into  the  house  of  his  betrothed 
with  his  pockets  full  of  samples  of  stuffs,  consults 
her  on  the  furnishing  of  the  bed-chamber,  who  goes, 
comes,  trots,  when  he  goes,  comes,  and  trots  ani- 
mated by  love,  is  one  of  those  things  which  most 
rejoice  an  honest  heart,  and  especially  the  furnishers. 
And,  as  nothing  pleases  the  world  more  than  the 
marriage  of  a  pretty  young  man  of  twenty-seven 
with  a  charming  girl  of  twenty  who  dances  well, 
Godefroid,  embarrassed  by  the  bridegroom's  gifts, 
invited  Rastignac  and  Madame  de  Nucingen  to  de- 
jeuner, in  order  to  consult  them  on  this  capital  affair. 


92  THE  HOUSE  OF  NUCINGEN 

He  had  the  excellent  idea  of  inviting  his  cousin 
d'Aiglemont  and  his  wife,  as  well  as  Madame  de 
Serizy.  Fashionable  women  like  very  well  these 
little  occasional  dissipations  in  bachelor  apartments, 
they  like  to  breakfast  there." 

"It  is  their  way  of  playing  truant,"  said  Blondet. 

"Every  one  had  to  go  and  see  in  the  Rue  de  la 
Planche  the  little  hotel  of  the  future  married  pair," 
resumed  Bixiou.  "The  women  are  for  these  little 
expeditions  just  like  ogres  for  fresh  flesh,  they 
freshen  up  their  own  present  with  this  young  joy 
which  has  not  yet  begun  to  pall  through  enjoyment. 
The  table  was  laid  in  the  little  salon,  which,  for  the 
interment  of  this  bachelor  life,  was  adorned  like  a 
show  horse  in  a  cavalcade.  The  dejeuner  had  been 
selected  so  as  to  offer  a  variety  of  those  pretty  little 
dishes  which  the  women  love  to  eat,  to  craunch,  to 
suck,  in  the  mornings,  a  time  of  the  day  in  which 
they  have  a  frightful  appetite,  which  they  do  not 
wish  to  admit,  for  it  seems  that  they  compromise 
themselves  in  saying:  'I  am  hungry!'  'And  why  are 
you  all  alone?'  said  Godefroid,  seeing  Rastignac 
arrive.  'Madame  de  Nucingen  is  indisposed,  I  will 
tell  you  all  about  it,'  replied  Rastignac,  who  had  the 
appearance  of  a  man  much  disturbed.  'Some  dis- 
agreement?' cried  Godefroid.  'No,' said  Rastignac. 
At  four  o'clock,  when  the  ladies  had  all  flown  away 
to  the  Bois  de  Boulogne,  Rastignac  remained  in  the 
salon,  looking  in  a  melancholy  manner  through  the 
window  at  Toby,  Joby,  Paddy,  who  was  posted 
audaciously    before    the    horse    harnessed    to    the 


THE   HOUSE  OF  NUCINGEN  93 

tilbury,  the  arms  folded  like  Napoleon  ;  he  could  not 
keep  him  in  check  otherwise  than  by  his  clear, 
shrill  voice,  and  the  horse  feared  Joby,  Toby. 
'Well,  what  is  the  matter  with  you,  my  dear 
friend?'  said  Godefroid  to  Rastignac.  'You  are 
sombre,  disquieted;  your  gayety  is  not  spontaneous. 
It  is  incomplete  happiness  which  vexes  your  soul. 
It  is,  in  fact,  very  unfortunate  not  to  be  married  at 
the  Mayor's  office  and  at  the  church  to  the  woman 
you  love.'  'Have  you  courage,  my  dear  fellow,  to 
hear  what  I  have  to  say  to  you,  and  will  you  know 
how  to  recognize  to  what  a  degree  it  is  necessary  to 
be  attached  to  some  one  in  order  to  commit  the 
indiscretion  of  which  I  am  about  to  be  culpable?' 
said  Rastignac  to  him  in  that  tone  which  resembled 
a  stroke  of  a  whip.  'What?'  said  Godefroid,  turn- 
ing pale.  'I  was  grieved  at  your  joy,  and  I  have 
not  the  heart,  in  seeing  all  these  preparations,  this 
happiness  in  flower,  to  keep  such  a  secret'  'Tell 
me  in  three  words.'  'Swear  to  me  on  your  honor 
that  you  will  be  in  this  as  silent  as  the  tomb.'  'As 
the  tomb.'  'That,  if  one  of  your  nearest  friends  is 
interested  in  this  secret,  he  shall  not  know  it.'  'He 
shall  not'  'Well,  Nucingen  has  gone  off  last  night 
to  Brussels;  it  will  be  necessary  to  go  into  bank- 
ruptcy if  liquidation  cannot  be  effected.  Delphine 
has  petitioned  this  very  morning  at  the  Palais  for 
the  separation  of  her  property.  You  may  yet  save 
your  fortune.'  'How?'  said  Godefroid,  feeling  an 
icy  blood  in  his  veins.  'Write  simply  to  the  Baron 
de  Nucingen  a  letter  antedated  fifteen  days,  in  which 


94  THE   HOUSE  OF  NUCINGEN 

you  will  give  him  the  order  to  employ  all  your 
funds  in  shares — and  he  named  to  him  the  Claparon 
Company — You  will  have  two  weeks,  a  month, 
three  months,  perhaps,  to  sell  them  above  the  pres- 
ent price;  they  will  rise  still  higher.'  'But 
d'Aiglemont,  who  breakfasted  with  us,  d'Aigle- 
mont,  who  has  a  million  invested  with  Nucingen!' 
'Listen,  I  do  not  know  if  there  are  enough  of  these 
shares  to  cover  him,  and  then  I  am  not  his  friend. 
I  cannot  betray  the  secrets  of  Nucingen;  you 
must  not  speak  to  him  about  it.  If  you  say  one 
word,  you  will  answer  to  me  for  the  consequences.' 
Godefroid  remained  for  ten  minutes  perfectly 
motionless.  'Do  you  accept,  yes  or  no?'  said  Ras- 
tignac  to  him,  pitilessly.  Godefroid  took  pen  and 
ink,  he  wrote  and  signed  the  letter  which  Rastignac 
dictated  to  him.  'My  poor  cousin!'  he  cried.  'Each 
one  for  himself,'  said  Rastignac.  'And  one  saved 
from  the  game,'  he  added,  in  leaving  Godefroid. 
While  Rastignac  was  manceuvering  in  Paris,  this 
was  the  state  of  affairs  on  the  Bourse.  I  have  a 
friend  from  the  provinces,  a  stupid,  who  asked  me, 
when  passing  the  Bourse,  between  four  and  five 
o'clock,  the  reason  for  this  assemblage  of  eager 
talkers,  who  came  and  went,  what  they  could  be 
saying  to  each  other,  and  why  they  were  thus  going 
about  after  the  final  settlement  of  the  price  of  the 
public  funds.  'My  friend,'  I  said  to  him,  'they 
have  eaten,  they  are  digesting;  during  diges- 
tion, they  gossip  about  their  neighbors;  without 
that,    no    commercial    security    in    Paris.'     There 


THE   HOUSE  OF  NUCINGEN  95 

enterprises  are  launched,  and  there  is  such  and 
such  a  man,  Palma,  for  example,  whose  authority 
is  like  that  of  Sinard  at  the  Royal  Academy  of 
Sciences.  He  says:  'Let  there  be  speculation,'  and 
speculation  there  is." 

"What  a  man,  Messieurs,"  said  Blondet,  "is  this 
Jew,  who  possesses  an  education  not  of  the  Univer- 
sities, but  universal.  In  him,  the  universality  does 
not  exclude  profundity;  what  he  knows,  he  knows 
all  the  way  to  the  bottom;  his  genius  is  intuitive  in 
business;  he  is  the  great  referendary  of  the  lynxes 
who  rule  the  Exchange  of  Paris,  and  who  do  not 
undertake  an  enterprise  until  Palma  has  examined 
it.  He  is  grave,  he  listens,  he  studies,  he  reflects, 
and  says  to  his  interlocutor,  who,  seeing  his  atten- 
tion, believes  him  secured:  'That  does  not  interest 
me.'  That  which  seems  to  me  to  be  the  most  ex- 
traordinary, is,  that  after  having  been  for  ten  years 
the  associate  of  Werbrust,  there  have  never  arisen 
any  differences  between  them." 

"That  only  happens  between  those  who  are  very 
strong  or  very  weak;  all  those  who  are  between 
these  two  extremes  quarrel  and  speedily  separate 
enemies,"  said  Couture. 

"You  understand,"  said  Bixiou,  "that  Nucingen 
had  knowingly  and  with  a  skilful  hand  thrown 
under  the  columns  of  the  Bourse  a  little  shell  which 
exploded  about  four  o'clock.  'Do  you  know  of  a 
grave  piece  of  news?'  said  Du  Til  let  to  Werbrust, 
drawing  him  into  a  corner.  'Nucingen  is  in  Brussels, 
his  wife  has  presented  to  the  court  a  petition  for 


cp  THE   HOUSE   OF  NUCINGEN 

her  separation  of  property.'  'Are  you  his  accom- 
plice in  a  liquidation?'  said  Werbrust,  smiling.  'No 
nonsense,  Werbrust,'  said  Du  Tillet;  'you  know 
the  people  who  have  his  paper ;  listen  to  me,  we  have 
an  affair  to  arrange.  The  shares  of  our  new  company 
earn  twenty  per  cent,  they  will  gain  twenty-five  at 
the  end  of  the  quarter ;  you  know  why.  There  will 
be  a  magnificent  dividend. '  'You  are  sly, '  said  Wer- 
brust, 'go  on,  go  your  way;  you  are  a  devil  whose 
claws  are  long  and  pointed,  and  you  plunge  them  in 
butter.'  'But  let  me  tell  you,  or  we  will  not  have 
time  in  which  to  operate.  I  found  my  idea  when  I 
heard  the  news,  and  1  have  positively  seen  Madame 
de  Nucingen  in  tears ;  she  has  fears  for  her  fortune. ' 
'Poor  little  thing!'  said  Werbrust,  with  an  ironical 
air.  'Well  ?'  resumed  this  old  Alsatian  Jew,  inter- 
rogating Du  Tillet,  who  was  silent.  'Well,  there 
are  in  my  office  a  thousand  shares  of  a  thousand 
francs  which  Nucingen  delivered  to  me  to  put  on 
the  market,  do  you  understand?'  'Good!'  'We  will 
buy  at  ten,  at  twenty  per  cent  discount,  paper 
of  the  House  of  Nucingen  for  a  million,  we  will  gain 
a  fine  premium  on  this  million,  for  we  will  be  cred- 
itors and  debtors,  there  will  be  uncertainty!  But 
we  must  act  carefully;  the  holders  might  believe 
that  we  are  manceuvering  in  the  interests  of  Nucin- 
gen.' Werbrust  now  comprehended  the  thing  to 
be  done  and  grasped  Du  Tillet's  hand,  throwing  upon 
him  the  look  of  a  woman  who  is  playing  a  trick  on  her 
neighbor.  'Well,  have  you  heard  the  news?'  said 
Martin  Falleix  to  them.     'The  House  of  Nucingen 


THE  HOUSE  OF  NUCINGEN  97 

has  suspended!'  'Bah!'  replied  Werbrust;  'Do 
not  noise  that  about,  let  the  people  who  hold  his 
paper  attend  to  their  affairs.'  'Do  you  know  the 
cause  of  the  disaster  ? — '  said  Claparon,  intervening. 
'You,  you  know  nothing,'  said  Du  Tillet  to  him; 
'there  will  not  be  the  least  disaster,  there  will  be 
payment  in  full.  Nucingen  will  resume  and  will 
find  all  the  funds  he  requires  in  my  hands.  I  know 
the  cause  of  the  suspension, — he  has  put  all  his 
capital  in  Mexican  investments,  which  repay  him 
in  metals,  in  Spanish  cannon  so  ridiculously  cast 
that  there  is  gold  in  them,  bells,  church  silver, 
all  the  debris  of  the  Spanish  monarchy  in  the 
Indies.  The  return  of  these  values  is  delayed. 
The  dear  baron  is  cramped,  that  is  all.'  'That  is 
true,' said  Werbrust,  'I  take  his  paper  at  twenty 
per  cent  discount.  The  news  circulated  thencefor- 
ward with  the  rapidity  of  fire  under  a  stack  of 
straw.  The  most  contradictory  things  were  said. 
But  there  was  so  much  confidence  in  the  House  of 
Nucingen,  always  because  of  the  two  preceding 
liquidations,  that  everybody  kept  its  paper.  'It  is 
necessary  that  Palma  give  us  a  lift,'  said  Werbrust. 
Palma  was  the  oracle  of  the  Kellers,  who  were  gorged 
with  Nucingen  securities.  A  word  of  alarm  from 
him  would  suffice.  Werbrust  persuaded  Palma  to 
sound  this  tocsin.  The  next  day,  alarm  pervaded 
the  Bourse.  The  Kellers,  advised  by  Palma,  dis- 
posed of  their  securities  at  ten  per  cent  rebate,  and 
were  accepted  as  authority  at  the  Bourse;  they 
were  known  to  be  very  shrewd.  Taillefer  then 
7 


98  THE   HOUSE  OF  NUCINGEN 

disposed  of  three  hundred  thousand  francs  at  twenty 
per  cent,  Martin  Falleix  two  hundred  thousand  at 
fifteen  per  cent.  Gigonnet  guessed  the  trick!  He 
encouraged  the  panic  in  order  to  be  able  to  procure 
the  Nucingen  paper  so  as  to  gain  some  two  or 
three  per  cent,  by  selling  it  to  Werbrust.  He  per- 
ceived, in  a  corner  of  the  Bourse,  the  poor  Matifat, 
who  had  three  hundred  thousand  francs  in  the 
hands  of  Nucingen.  The  druggist,  pale  and  ghastly, 
did  not  see  without  a  shudder  the  terrible  Gigonnet, 
the  discounter  of  his  ancient  quarter,  coming  to  him 
to  terrify  him.  'That  is  bad,  the  crisis  is  at 
hand.  Nucingen  is  making  an  arrangement!  but 
that  does  not  concern  you,  Father  Matifat;  you  have 
retired  from  business.'  'Well,  you  are  mistaken, 
Gigonnet,  I  am  caught  with  three  hundred  thousand 
francs  with  which  I  wished  to  operate  in  Spanish 
funds.'  'They  are  saved;  the  Spanish  funds  would 
have  entirely  devoured  you,  whilst  I  will  give  you 
something  like  fifty  per  cent  for  your  account  with 
Nucingen.'  'I  had  rather  see  the  liquidation,'  replied 
Matifat; 'a  banker  has  never  given  less  than  fifty 
per  cent.  Ah,  if  it  were  only  a  question  of  ten  per 
cent  loss,'  said  the  former  druggist.  'Well,  will 
you  have  it  at  fifteen?'  said  Gigonnet.  'You 
seem  to  me  very  eager,'  said  Matifat.  'Good- 
evening,'  said  Gigonnet.  'Will  you  have  it  at 
twelve?'  'Agreed,'  said  Gigonnet.  Two  millions 
were  bought  up  that  evening  and  balanced  at 
Nucingen's  by  Du  Tillet,  for  the  account  of  these 
three     fortunate     associates,    who,   the   next  day, 


THE   HOUSE   OF  NUCINGEN 


99 


received  their  premium.     The  old,  pretty  and  little 
Baroness  d'Aldrigger   was    breakfasting   with    her 
two  daughters  and  Godefroid,  when  Rastignac  came 
with  a  diplomatic  air  and  engaged  the  conversation 
on  the  financial  crisis.       The  Baron  de  Nucingen 
had  a  lively  affection  for  the  d'Aldrigger  family; 
he  had  arranged  in  case  of  misfortune  to  cover  the 
account  of  the   baroness  with    his   most   valuable 
securities,  shares    in   the   mines  of   silver-bearing 
lead  ore;  but,  for  the  security  of  the  baroness,  she 
should  request   him  to  employ  her  funds    in   this 
manner.      'That    poor    Nucingen,'    said    the    bar- 
oness.    'And  what  has   happened   to    him,   then?' 
'He  is  in  Belgium;  his  wife  has  demanded  a  sepa- 
ration of  her  property;  but  he  has  gone  to  find  other 
resources  among  the  bankers.'      'Mon    Dieu,  that 
reminds  me  of  my  poor  husband!     Dear  Monsieur 
de  Rastignac,  how  badly  this  must  make  you  feel, 
you  who  are  so  attached  to  that  house.'     'Provided 
that  all  the  outsiders  are  protected,  his  friends  will  be 
recompensed  later.    He  will  get  out  of  it;  he    is  a 
clever  man.'     'An  honest  man,  above  all,'  cried  the 
baroness.     At  the  end  of  a  month  the  liquidation  of 
the    liabilities    of    the    House    of    Nucingen    had 
been  accomplished,  without  any  other  process  than 
letters  by  which  each  one  requested  the  employment 
of  his  money  in  certain  designated  securities,  and 
without  any  other  formalities  on  the  part  of  the 
banking-houses  than  the  transfer  of  the  Nucingen 
securities   to   those   stocks  which  were   preferred. 
Whilst  Du   Tillet,   Werbrust,   Claparon,   Gigonnet 


100  THE   HOUSE  OF  NUCINGEN 

and  some  others,  who  thought  themselves  clever, 
brought  back  from  abroad  the  paper  of  the  House  of 
Nucingen  with  one  per  cent  premium,  for  they  made 
a  further  profit  in  exchanging  it  against  rising 
stocks,  the  rumor  was  still  more  widely  spread  on  the 
Paris  Exchange  that  no  one  had  longer  anything  to 
fear.  There  was  much  talk  about  Nucingen.  He 
was  examined,  he  was  judged;  means  were  found  to 
calumniate  him!  His  luxury,  his  enterprises! 
When  a  man  carries  on  so,  he  will  sink  himself,  etc. 
In  the  midst  of  all  this  tutti,  some  persons  were 
much  astonished  to  receive  letters  from  Geneva, 
Basle,  from  Milan,  from  Naples,  from  Genoa,  from 
Marseilles,  from  London,  in  which  their  correspon- 
dents announced,  not  without  astonishment,  that 
they  were  offered  one  per  cent  premium  on  Nucin- 
gen's  paper,  of  whose  failure  they  were  advised. 
'Something  is  going  on,'  said  the  financial  lynxes. 
The  courts  had  pronounced  separation  of  property 
between  Nucingen  and  his  wife.  The  affair  became 
still  more  complicated, — the  newspapers  announced 
the  return  of  Monsieur  le  Baron  de  Nucingen,  who 
had  just  concluded  a  negotiation  with  a  well-known 
Belgium  manufacturer  for  the  operation  of  some 
ancient  coal  mines,  then  in  difficulties,  the  pits  of 
the  forests  of  Bossut.  The  Baron  reappeared  on  the 
Bourse,  without  even  taking  the  trouble  to  deny  the 
injurious  rumors  which  had  been  in  circulation  con- 
cerning him.  He  disdained  to  claim  reparation 
through  the  newspapers;  he  purchased  for  two  mil- 
lions a  magnificent  property  at  the  gates  of  Paris. 


THE  HOUSE  OF  NUCINGEN  101 

Six  weeks  later  the  journals  of  Bordeaux  announced 
the  arrival  of  two  vessels,  consigned  to  the  House 
of  Nucingen,  with  cargoes  of  metals  of  the  value 
of  seven  millions.  Palma,  Werbrust  and  Du 
Tillet  comprehended  that  the  operation  was  com- 
pleted, but  they  were  the  only  ones  who  compre- 
hended it  These  scholars  studied  the  theatrical 
arrangement  of  this  financial  puff,  recognized  that 
it  had  been  prepared  eleven  months  previously, 
and  proclaimed  Nucingen  the  greatest  European 
financier.  Rastignac  comprehended  nothing  of  it, 
but  he  had  gained  thereby  four  hundred  thousand 
francs  which  Nucingen  had  allowed  him  to  shear 
from  the  Parisian  lambs,  and  with  which  he  had 
provided  dots  for  his  two  sisters.  D'Aiglemont, 
notified  by  his  cousin  Beaudenord,  had  come  to 
entreat  Rastignac  to  accept  ten  per  cent  of  his  mil- 
lion if  he  would  obtain  for  him  the  employment  of 
the  million  in  shares  of  a  canal  which  was  yet  to  be 
made,  for  Nucingen  had  so  well  involved  the  gov- 
ernment in  this  affair  that  the  concessionaires  of 
the  canal  were  interested  in  not  having  it  com- 
pleted. Charles  Grandet  had  implored  Delphine's 
lover  to  permit  him  to  exchange  his  money  for 
shares.  In  short,  Rastignac  had  played,  during 
ten  days,  the  role  of  Law,  supplicated  by  the  pret- 
tiest duchesses  to  give  them  shares,  and  to-day 
the  scamp  may  have  forty  thousand  francs  of 
income,  the  origin  of  which  might  be  traced  to 
the  shares  in  the  mines  of  the  silver-bearing  lead 
ore." 


102  THE  HOUSE  OF  NUCINGEN 

"If  everybody  made  money,  who  then  lost?"  said 
Finot. 

"Conclusion,"  resumed  Bixiou.  "Allured  by 
the  pseudo-dividend  which  they  had  received  some 
months  after  the  exchange  of  their  money  for  shares, 
the  Marquis  d'Aiglemont  and  Beaudenord  kept 
theirs — I  give  you  these  to  represent  all  the  others — 
They  had  three  per  cent  more  than  their  capitals; 
they  chanted  the  praises  of  Nucingen,  and  defended 
him  at  the  very  moment  when  he  was  suspected  of 
suspending  payment.  Godefroid  married  his  dear 
Isaure,  and  received  a  hundred  thousand  francs  in 
shares  in  the  mines.  On  the  occasion  of  this  mar- 
riage, the  Nucingens  gave  a  ball,  the  magnificence  of 
which  surpassed  anything  that  can  be  conceived  of 
it.  Delphine  offered  to  the  young  wife  a  charming 
set  of  rubies.  Isaure  danced,  no  longer  as  a  young 
girl,  but  as  a  happy  wife.  The  litttle  baroness  was 
more  than  ever  shepherdess  of  the  Alps.  Malvina, 
the  woman  of  Ave^-vous  vu  dans  Barcelone?  heard,  in 
the  midst  of  the  ball,  Du  Tillet  dryly  counselling  her 
to  become  Madame  Desroches.  Desroches,  excited 
by  the  Nucingens,  by  Rastignac,  undertook  to  treat 
of  pecuniary  affairs;  but,  at  the  first  words  concern- 
ing mining  stocks  given  in  dowry,  he  broke  off  and 
returned  to  the  Matifats.  In  the  Rue  du  Cherche- 
Midi  the  lawyer  found  the  damned  canal  shares 
with  which  Gigonnet  had  stuffed  Matifat,  instead  of 
giving  him  money.  So  you  see  Desroches  finding 
Nucingen's  rake  upon  the  two  dots  on  which  he 
had  fixed  his  attention !     The  catastrophes  were  not 


THE   HOUSE  OF  NUCINGEN  103 

delayed.  The  Claparon  Company  was  engaged  in 
too  many  affairs,  there  was  a  choking  up;  it  ceased 
to  pay  interest  and  to  declare  dividends,  although 
its  operations  were  excellent.  This  misfortune 
happened  in  combination  with  the  events  of  1827. 
In  1829,  Claparon  was  too  well  known  to  be  the 
man  of  straw  of  these  two  colossi,  and  he  fell  from 
his  pedestal  to  the  earth.  From  twelve  hundred 
and  fifty  francs,  the  shares  fell  to  four  hundred 
francs,  although  their  intrinsic  value  was  six  hun- 
dred. Nucingen,  who  knew  their  real  value,  bought 
them  in.  The  little  Baroness  d'Aldrigger  had  sold 
her  shares  in  the  mines  which  brought  in  nothing, 
and  Godefroid  sold  his  wife's  for  the  same  reason. 
Like  the  baroness,  Beaudenord  had  exchanged  his 
mining  stock  for  shares  of  the  Claparon  Company. 
Their  debts  forced  them  to  sell  on  a  declining  mar- 
ket. Of  that  which  represented  to  them  seven 
hundred  thousand  francs,  they  had  two  hundred  and 
thirty  thousand  francs.  They  took  their  losses,  and 
the  remnant  was  prudently  placed  in  the  three  per 
cents  at  seventy-five.  Godefroid,  that  happy  youth, 
without  care,  who  had  only  to  enjoy  life,  saw  him- 
self charged  with  a  little  wife  stupid  as  a  goose, 
incapable  of  supporting  misfortune,  for,  at  the  end 
of  six  months,  he  perceived  a  transformation  in  the 
object  so  lightly  loved;  and,  moreover,  he  was  sad- 
dled with  a  mother-in-law  without  means  who 
dreamed  of  toilets.  The  two  families  were  living 
together  in  order  to  exist.  Godefroid  was  obliged 
to  call  upon  all  his  former  influential  connections, 


104  THE  HOUSE  OF  NUCINGEN 

now  chilled,  to  secure  a  situation  of  a  thousand  ecus 
at  the  Ministry  of  Finance.  His  friends?— at  the 
watering  places.  His  relatives?— astonished,  prom- 
ising: 'What,  my  dear  fellow,  but  count  upon  me  I 
Poor  boy  !'  Clean  forgotten  a  quarter  of  an  hour  after- 
wards, Beaudenord  was  indebted  for  his  situation 
to  the  influence  of  Nucingen  and  of  Vandenesse. 
These  persons,  so  estimable  and  so  unfortunate, 
live  to-day  in  the  Rue  du  Mont-Thabor,  on  the 
third  floor  above  the  entresol.  The  pearl  of  the 
daughter  of  the  Adolphuses,  Malvina,  has  noth- 
ing; she  gives  piano-lessons  in  order  not  to  be 
a  charge  on  her  brother-in-law.  Dark,  tall,  thin, 
dry,  she  resembles  a  mummy  escaped  from  the 
museum  of  Passalacqua  running  about  on  foot 
through  Paris.  In  1830,  Beaudenord  lost  his  situa- 
tion, and  his  wife  presented  him  with  a  fourth 
child.  Eight  masters  and  two  servants — Wirth  and 
his  wife — !  money :  eight  thousand  francs  of  income. 
The  mines  pay  to-day  such  considerable  dividends, 
that  the  thousand  francs'  share  is  worth  a  thousand 
francs  of  income.  Rastignac  and  Madame  de  Nucin- 
gen have  purchased  the  stocks  sold  by  Godefroid  and 
by  the  baroness.  Nucingen  was  made  peer  of  France 
by  the  Revolution  of  July,  and  Grand  Officer  of  the 
Legion  of  Honor.  Although  he  has  not  liquidated 
since  1830,  he  has,  it  is  said,  sixteen  to  eighteen 
millions.  Foreseeing  the  Ordinance  of  July,  he 
sold  all  his  funds  and  replaced  them  courageously 
when  the  three  per  cents  were  at  forty-five ;  he  caused 
it  to  be  believed   at  the   Chateau   that  this  was 


THE  HOUSE  OF  NUCINGEN  105 

through  loyalty,  and  he  has  in  this  period  gobbled 
up,  in  concert  with  Du  Tillet,  three  millions  from 
that  great  rogue  of  a  Philippe  Bridau!  Recently, 
passing  through  the  Rue  de  Rivoli  on  his  way  to  the 
Bois  de  Boulogne,  our  baron  perceived  under  the 
arcades  the  Baroness  d'Aldrigger.  The  little  old 
woman  had  a  green  capote  lined  with  pink,  a  flow- 
ered dress,  a  mantilla;  in  short,  she  was  still,  and 
more  than  ever,  shepherdess  of  the  Alps,  for  she  no 
more  comprehended  the  causes  of  her  misfortune 
than  the  causes  of  her  opulence.  She  was  leaning 
on  the  poor  Malvina,  that  model  of  heroic  devotion, 
who  had  the  air  of  being  the  old  mother,  while  the 
baroness  had  that  of  being  the  young  daughter;  and 
Wirth  followed  them  with  an  umbrella.  'Dere  are 
zome  heebies,'  said  the  baron  to  Monsieur  Cointet, 
a  minister,  with  whom  he  was  walking,  'whose 
vortunes  it  was  imbossible  for  me  to  make.  De 
vlurry  of  high  brincibles  is  over,  dake  dis  boor 
Peautenord  pack.'  Beaudenord  returned  to  the 
finances  through  the  care  of  Nucingen,  whom  the 
d'Aldriggers  praise  as  a  hero  of  friendship,  for  he 
always  invites  the  little  shepherdess  of  the  Alps 
and  her  daughters  to  his  balls.  It  is  impossible  to 
anyone,  no  matter  whom,  in  the  world  to  demon- 
strate how  this  man  has,  three  times  and  without 
breaking  the  law,  wished  to  rob  the  public  enriched 
by  him,  despite  him.  Nobody  had  any  reproaches 
for  him.  Whoever  would  say  that  this  great 
banking  is  often  throat-cutting  would  utter  the 
basest  calumny.     If  stocks  rise  and  fall,  if  values 


106  THE  HOUSE  OF  NUCINGEN 

augment  and  decrease,  this  flux  and  reflux  is  pro- 
duced by  some  movement  mutual,  atmospheric, 
brought  about  by  the  influence  of  the  moon,  and  the 
great  Arago  is  culpable  in  not  giving  any  scientific 
theory  for  this  important  phenomenon.  The  only 
result  of  all  this  is  a  pecuniary  verity  which  I  have 
never  seen  written  anywhere — " 

"Which  one?" 

"The  debtor  is  stronger  than  the  creditor." 

"Oh!"  said  Blondet,  "for  myself,  I  see  in  what 
we  have  said  the  paraphrase  of  a  saying  of  Mon- 
tesquieu, in  which  he  has  concentrated  all  the 
Esprit  des  lots. ' ' 

"What?"  said  Finot. 

"Laws  are  spiders'  webs  through  which  the  big 
flies  pass  and  in  which  the  little  ones  are  caught." 

"What  do  you  want  to  arrive  at?"  said  Finot  to 
Blondet 

"An  absolute  government,  the  only  one  in  which 
enterprises  of  the  wits  against  the  law  can  be 
repressed!  Yes,  the  arbitrary  power  rescues  the 
people  in  coming  to  the  aid  of  justice,  for  the  right 
of  pardon  has  no  reverse, — the  king,  who  may  par- 
don the  fraudulent  bankrupt,  restores  nothing  to  the 
plundered  victim.     Legality  kills  modern  society." 

"Make  the  electors  comprehend  that!"  said 
Bixiou. 

"There  is  some  one  who  has  taken  charge  of  it." 

"Who?" 

"Time.  As  the  bishop  of  Leon  said:  'If  liberty 
is   ancient,  royalty    is   eternal ;'    every    nation   of 


THE   HOUSE  OF  NUCINGEN  107 

sound  mind  will  return  to  it  under  one  form  or 
another." 

"Look  out,  there  is  someone  on  the  other  side," 
said  Finot,  hearing  us  go  out. 

"There  is  always  some  one  on  the  other  side," 
replied  Bixiou,  who  was  probably  by  this  time  well 
wine-seasoned. 

Paris,  November,  1837. 


THE  SECRETS  OF 
LA  PRINCESSE  DE  CADIGNAN 


(109) 


TO  THEOPHILE  GAUT1ER 


(in) 


LEAVIXG    THE  OPERA 


"When  coming  out  of  the  Opera,  as  out  of  the 
Bouffons,  I  saw  him  planted  in  the  crowd,  motionless 
on  his  two  legs, — he  was  elbowed,  but  he  was  not 
moved.  His  eyes  became  less  brilliant  when  he  per- 
ceived me  leaning  on  the  arm  of  some  favorite.  All 
this  time,  not  a  word,  not  a  letter,  not  a  demonstra- 
tion. You  must  admit  that  it  was  in  good  taste. 
Sometimes,    on   returning   home    in   the    morning,   I 

ind  my  man  seated  on  one  of  the  sides  of  my 
porte-cochere.     This  loving  one  had  very  fine  eyes." 


LA  PRINCESSE  DE  CADIGNAN 

* 

After  the  disasters  of  the  Revolution  of  July, 
which  destroyed  more  than  one  of  the  aristocratic 
fortunes  sustained  by  the  Court,  Madame  la  Prin- 
cesse  de  Cadignan  had  the  cleverness  to  lay  to  the 
account  of  the  current  political  events  the  complete 
ruin  due  to  her  extravagances.  The  prince  had  left 
France  with  the  royal  family,  leaving  the  princess 
in  Paris,  inviolable  through  his  absence, — for  the 
debts,  for  the  satisfaction  of  which  the  sale  of  the 
salable  property  could  not  suffice,  weighed  on  him 
only.  The  revenues  of  the  entail  had  been  seized. 
In  short,  the  affairs  of  this  great  family  were  in  as 
evil  a  state  as  those  of  the  elder  branch  of  the  Bour- 
bons. This  woman,  so  well  known  under  her  first 
name  of  the  Duchesse  de  Maufrigneuse,  then  de- 
cided wiseiy  to  live  in  profound  retirement, — she 
wished  to  be  forgotten.  Paris  was  carried  away  by 
a  current  of  events  so  bewildering  that  very  shortly 
the  Duchesse  de  Maufrigneuse,  buried  in  the  Prin- 
cesse  de  Cadignan — a  change  of  name  unknown  to 
the  greater  number  of  the  new  actors  in  society 
brought  on  the  stage  by  the  Revolution  of  July — 
became  like  a  stranger. 

8  (113) 


114  THE    SECRETS   OF 

In  France,  the  title  of  duke  precedes  all  others, 
even  that  of  prince,  although  in  heraldic  thesis,  free 
from  sophism,  titles  signify  absolutely  nothing  and 
there  should  be  perfect  equality  among  gentlemen. 
This  admirable  equality  was  formerly  carefully 
maintained  by  the  Royal  House  of  France;  and,  in 
our  day,  it  still  is,  at  least  nominally,  by  the  care 
which  the  kings  take  to  give  the  simple  title  of 
count  to  their  children.  It  was  in  virtue  of  this 
system  that  Francis  I.  eclipsed  the  splendoi  of  the 
titles  which  the  pompous  Charles  V.  gave  himself 
by  signing  a  reply  to  him:  "Francois,  Seigneur  de 
Vanves. "  Louis  XI.  did  better  still,  by  marrying  his 
daughter  to  an  untitled  gentleman,  Pierre  de  Beaujeu. 
The  feudal  system  was  so  well  broken  up  by  Louis 
XIV.  that  the  title  of  duke  became  in  his  reign  the 
highest  honor  of  the  aristocracy,  and  the  one  the 
most  envied.  Nevertheless,  there  are  two  or  three 
families  in  France  of  which  the  princedom,  formerly 
richly  possessed,  is  put  before  that  of  the  duchy. 
The  House  of  Cadignan,  which  possesses  the  title 
of  Due  de  Maufrigneuse  for  its  eldest  son,  while  all 
the  others  are  entitled  simply  Chevaliers  de  Cadig- 
nan, is  one  of  these  exceptional  families.  As  was 
formerly  the  case  with  two  princes  of  the  House  of 
Rohan,  the  princes  de  Cadignan  were  entitled  to  a 
throne  amongst  them ;  they  were  entitled  to  have 
pages  and  gentlemen  in  their  service.  This  expla- 
nation is  necessary,  as  much  to  avoid  the  foolish 
criticisms  of  those  who  know  nothing  as  to  declare 
the  important  things  of  a  world  which,  it  is  said,  is 


LA   PRINCESSE   DE   CADIGNAN  115 

departing,  and  which  so  many  people  promote  with- 
out comprehending  it.  The  Cadignans  bore  d'or 
with  five  fusils  sable  coupled  and  placed  Jesse,  with 
the  word  "MEMINI"  for  device,  and  the  closed 
crown,  without  supporters  or  mantling.  To-day, 
the  great  number  of  foreigners  who  throng  to  Paris, 
and  an  almost  general  ignorance  of  the  science  of 
heraldry,  tend  to  bring  the  title  of  prince  into 
fashion.  There  are  no  real  princes  excepting  those 
who  have  landed  possessions  and  who  are  entitled 
"Highness."  The  disdain  of  the  French  nobility 
for  the  title  of  prince  and  the  reasons  which  induced 
Louis  XIV.  to  give  supremacy  to  the  title  of  duke, 
have  operated  to  prevent  in  France  claims  to 
the  title  of  Highness  for  the  few  princes  who  exist 
in  this  nation,  those  of  Napoleon  excepted.  This 
is  the  reason  why  the  Princes  de  Cadignan  found 
themselves  in  an  inferior  position,  nominally  speak- 
ing, to  the  other  Continental  princes. 

The  princess  was  protected  by  that  society  called 
"of  the  Faubourg  Saint-Germain"  through  a  respect- 
ful discretion  due  to  hei  name,  which  is  one  cf  those 
always  honored;  to  her  misfortunes,  which  were  not 
discussed,  and  to  her  beauty,  the  only  thing  which 
she  had  preserved  of  her  lost  opulence.  The 
world,  of  which  she  was  the  ornament,  was  thank- 
ful to  her  for  having  taken,  as  it  were,  the  veil  in 
cloistering  herself  in  her  own  house.  This  good 
taste  was  for  her,  more  than  for  any  other  woman, 
an  immense  sacrifice.  The  great  events  are  always 
so  keenly  felt  in  France,  that  the   princess  regained 


Il6  THE  SECRETS  OF 

by  her  retirement  all  that  she  might  have  lost  in 
public  opinion  in  the  middle  of  her  splendors.  She 
saw  only  one  of  her  ancient  friends,  the  Marquise 
d'Espard;  she  went  neither  to  the  grand  social 
reunions  nor  to  the  festivities.  The  princess  and 
the  marchioness  visited  each  other  in  the  early 
morning,  and,  as  it  were,  secretly.  When  the  prin- 
cess came  to  dine  with  her  friend,  the  marchioness 
closed  her  doors.  Madame  d'Espard  was  admirably 
considerate  for  the  princess;  she  changed  her  box  at 
the  Italiens,  and  left  the  front  row  for  a  box  on 
the  ground  floor,  so  that  Madame  de  Cadignan  could 
go  to  the  theatre  without  being  seen,  and  depart 
incognito.  Very  few  women  would  have  been 
capable  of  a  delicacy  which  deprived  them  of  the 
pleasure  of  dragging  in  their  suite  a  fallen  former 
rival,  of  proclaiming  themselves  her  benefactress. 
The  princess,  being  thus  able  to  dispense  with  the 
ruinous  extravagance  of  toilets,  went  privately  in 
the  carriage  of  the  marchioness,  which  she  would 
not  have  accepted  publicly.  No  one  has  ever 
known  the  reasons  which  induced  Madame  d'Espard 
to  act  thus  with  the  Princesse  de  Cadignan;  but 
her  conduct  was  sublime,  and  permitted  for  a  long 
time  a  multitude  of  little  things  which,  seen  singly, 
seem  to  be  but  sillinesses,  but  which,  taken  alto- 
gether, attain  the  gigantic.  In  1832,  the  snows  of 
three  years  had  drifted  over  the  adventures  of  the 
Duchesse  de  Maufrigneuse,  and  had  so  nearly 
covered  them  that  serious  efforts  of  the  memory 
were  required  to  recall  the  grave  circumstances  of 


LA  PRINCESSE  DE  CADIGNAN  117 

her  previous  life.  Of  this  queen,  adored  by  so  many 
courtiers,  and  whose  light  adventures  might  have 
furnished  material  for  several  romances,  there  still 
remained  a  delightfully  handsome  woman,  thirty- 
six  years  of  age,  but  authorized  to  claim  no  more 
than  thirty,  although  she  was  the  mother  of  the  Due 
Georges  de  Maufrigneuse,  a  young  man  of  nine- 
teen, handsome  as  Antinous,  poor  as  Job,  who  was 
entitled  to  the  utmost  success  and  whom  his  mother 
wished,  before  all,  to  make  a  rich  marriage.  Perhaps 
in  this  project  might  be  found  a  secret  of  the  inti- 
macy which  she  preserved  with  the  marchioness, 
whose  salon  enjoyed  the  reputation  of  being  the 
first  in  Paris,  and  in  which  she  might  some  day 
choose,  among  the  heiresses,  a  wife  for  Georges. 
The  princess  foresaw  five  years  yet  to  pass  between 
the  present  moment  and  the  epoch  of  her  son's  mar- 
riage; solitary  and  deserted  years,  for,  in  order  to 
secure  a  good  marriage,  it  would  be  necessary  that 
her  conduct  should  be  marked  with  prudence. 

The  princess  lived  in  the  Rue  de  Miromesnil  in  a 
little  hotel,  on  the  ground  floor,  at  a  moderate  rent. 
She  had  brought  thither  a  part  of  the  remnants  of 
her  magnificence.  Her  elegance  of  the  grande  dame 
might  still  be  felt  there.  She  was  still  surrounded 
there  by  those  things  which  announce  a  superior 
existence.  On  her  chimney-piece  might  be  seen  a 
magnificent  miniature,  the  portrait  of  Charles  X., 
by  Madame  de  Mirbel,  under  which  were  engraved 
these  words:  "Presented  by  the  king;"  and,  as  a 
companion,  the  portrait  of  MADAME,  which  was  so 


Il8  THE   SECRETS  OF 

peculiarly  excellent  in  her  case.  On  a  table  was  a 
resplendent  album  of  the  utmost  costliness,  which 
not  one  of  the  bourgeois  who  enthrone  themselves  in 
our  industrial  society,  so  shifting  and  uncertain, 
would  dare  to  display.  This  audacity  portrayed  the 
woman  admirably.  The  album  contained  a  number 
of  portraits  among  which  might  be  recognized  some 
thirty  intimate  friends  whom  the  world  had  called 
her  lovers.  This  number  was  a  calumny;  but,  if 
we  were  to  say  ten,  perhaps  that  might  be  some- 
what near  it,  as  said  the  Marquise  d'Espard,  with 
good  honest  scandal.  The  portraits  of  Maxime  de 
Trailles,  of  De  Marsay,  of  Rastignac,  of  the  Marquis 
d'Esgrignon,  of  General  de  Montriveau,  of  the  two 
Marquises,  deRonquerollesandd'Ajuda-Pinto,  of  the 
Prince  Galathionne,  of  the  young  Dues  de  Grandlieu, 
de  Rhetore,  of  the  handsome  Lucien  de  Rubempre, 
of  the  young  Vicomte  de  Serizy,  had,  moreover, 
been  rendered  with  the  greatest  and  most  flattering 
skill  by  the  most  celebrated  artists.  As  the  prin- 
cess no  longer  received  more  than  two  or  three  per- 
sons of  this  collection,  she  alluded  to  this  book 
pleasantly  as  "the  collection  of  her  errors."  Mis- 
fortune had  made  of  this  woman  a  good  mother. 
During  the  fifteen  years  of  the  Restoration  she  had 
amused  herself  too  constantly  to  think  of  her  son; 
but,  when  taking  refuge  in  obscurity,  this  illus- 
trious egotist  reflected  that  the  maternal  sentiment 
pushed  to  its  extreme  development  might  become 
for  her  past  life  an  absolution,  confirmed  by  all  right- 
thinking   people,    who    pardon    everything    to   an 


LA  PRINCESSE   DE  CADIGNAN  119 

excellent  mother.  She  loved  her  son  all  the  more 
that  she  no  longer  had  any  other  thing  to  love. 
Georges  de  Maufrigneuse  is,  moreover,  one  of  those 
children  who  might  flatter  all  a  mother's  vanities; 
and  thus  the  princess  made  for  him  all  kinds  of  sacri- 
fices :  she  maintained  for  Georges  a  stable  and  a  car- 
riage-house, over  which  he  lived  in  a  little  entresol 
on  the  street,  consisting  of  three  apartments,  beauti- 
fully furnished;  she  had  imposed  upon  herself  some 
privations  that  he  might  have  a  saddle-horse,  a  horse 
for  his  cabriolet,  and  a  small  servant.  She  herself 
kept  no  longer  anything  but  her  femme  de  chambre, 
and,  for  cook,  one  of  her  former  kitchen-maids.  The 
duke's  tiger  had  at  this  period  a  somewhat  exacting 
service.  Toby,  the  former  tiger  of  the  late  Beau- 
denord— for  such  was  the  pleasant  jest  of  the  gay 
world  on  this  ruined  dandy — this  young  tiger,  who 
at  twenty-five  was  everywhere  thought  to  be  only 
fourteen  years  old,  was  expected  to  take  care  of  the 
horses,  clean  the  cabriolet  or  the  tilbury,  follow  his 
master,  keep  the  apartments  in  order  and  be  present 
in  the  antechamber  of  the  princess  to  announce  her 
guest  if,  by  chance,  she  was  receiving  the  visit  of 
some  personage.  When  we  reflect  on  that  which 
was,  under  the  Restoration,  the  beautiful  Duchesse 
de  Maufrigneuse,  one  of  the  queens  of  Paris,  a 
splendid  queen,  whose  luxurious  existence  would 
have  been  worthy  of  one  of  the  richest  women  of 
the  world  of  London,  there  was  something  inde- 
scribably touching  to  see  her  in  a  little  shell  of  the 
Rue   de   Miromesnil,    a   few   steps   only   from    her 


120  THE    SECRETS  OF 

immense  hotel,  which  no  fortune  was  able  to  main- 
tain and  which  the  hammer  of  the  speculators  has 
now  demolished.  The  woman  who  could  scarcely 
be  served  comfortably  by  thirty  servants,  who  pos- 
sessed the  finest  reception  apartments  in  Paris,  the 
most  charming  little  apartments,  who  gave  in  them 
such  admirable  fetes,  now  lived  in  a  suite  of  five 
rooms, — an  antechamber,  a  dining-room,  a  salon, 
a  bed-chamber,  and  a  dressing-room,  with  two 
women  for  her  only  servants. 

"Ah!  she  is  admirable  for  her  son,"  said  that  fine 
gossip,  the  Marquise  d'Espard,  "and  admirable 
without  affectation ;  she  is  happy.  One  would 
never  have  thought  this  woman,  so  light,  capable 
of  resolutions  followed  so  persistently;  and  our 
good  Archbishop  has  encouraged  her,  has  shown 
the  greatest  consideration  for  her,  and  has  per- 
suaded the  old  Comtesse  de  Cinq-Cygne  to  pay 
her  a  visit." 

Let  us  admit  it,  moreover,  it  is  necessary  to  have 
been  a  queen  to  know  how  to  abdicate  and  to 
descend  nobly  from  an  elevated  position  which, 
however,  is  never  entirely  lost.  Those  only  who  are 
conscious  in  themselves  of  being  nothing  manifest 
their  regrets  in  thus  falling,  or  murmur  continually, 
and  go  back  in  imagination  to  a  past  which  will 
never  return,  feeling  sure,  as  they  do,  that  they  can 
never  attain  it  a  second  time.  Compelled  to  abandon 
the  rare  flowers  in  the  midst  of  which  she  had  been 
accustomed  to  live,  and  which  so  well  set  off  her  per- 
son, for  it  was  impossible  not  to  compare  her  to  a 


LA  PRINCESSE   DE  CADIGNAN  121 

flower,  the  princess  had  skilfully  chosen  her  ground- 
floor  apartment, — she  there  had  the  enjoyment  of  a 
pretty  little  garden  full  of  shrubs  and  bushes,  and 
of  which  the  turf,  always  green,  enlivened  her 
peaceful  retreat.  She  might  have  had  at  this  period 
about  twelve  thousand  francs  of  income.  This  modest 
revenue  was  composed  of  an  annual  stipend  donated 
by  the  old  Duchesse  de  Navarreins,  paternal  aunt 
of  the  young  duke,  which  would  be  continued  to  the 
day  of  his  marriage,  and  of  another  stipend  sent  by 
the  Duchesse  d'Uxelles,  from  her  estate,  where  she 
was  economizing  as  the  old  duchesses  know  how  to 
economize,  for,  compared  with  them,  Harpagon  was 
only  a  scholar.  The  prince  lived  abroad,  constantly 
at  the  orders  of  his  exiled  masters,  sharing  their 
evil  fortune  and  serving  them  with  a  disinterested 
devotion,  the  most  intelligent  perhaps  of  all  those 
who  surrounded  them.  The  position  of  the  Prince 
de  Cadignan  still  protected  his  wife  at  Paris.  It 
was  in  the  apartments  of  the  princess  that  the  mar- 
shal to  whom  we  owe  the  conquest  of  Africa  had, 
at  the  period  of  the  attempt  of  MADAME  in  La  Ven- 
dee, conferences  with  the  principal  chiefs  of  the 
Legitimistes, — so  complete  was  the  obscurity  of  the 
princess,  so  little  did  her  poverty  excite  the  sus- 
picion of  the  actual  government!  In  seeing  the 
approach  of  the  terrible  failure  of  love,  that  age 
of  forty  years,  beyond  which  there  is  so  little  for  a 
woman,  the  princess  had  thrown  herself  into  the 
kingdom  of  philosophy.  She  read,  she  who  had,  for 
sixteen  years,   manifested  the  greatest  horror  for 


122  THE   SECRETS  OF 

serious  things.  Literature  and  politics  are  to-day 
that  which  formerly  devotion  was  for  women,  the 
last  refuge  of  their  pretensions.  In  the  elegant  cir- 
cles of  society,  it  was  said  that  Diane  would  wish 
to  write  a  book.  Since  the  period  when,  from  a 
charming,  from  a  beautiful  woman,  the  princess  had 
passed  into  a  clever  woman,  before  she  should  pass 
away  altogether,  she  had  made  of  a  reception  under 
her  roof  a  supreme  honor  which  distinguished  pro- 
digiously the  favored  person.  Under  cover  of  these 
occupations  she  could  deceive  one  of  her  first  lovers, 
De  Marsay,  the  most  influential  personage  in  bour- 
geois politics,  put  into  power  July,  1830;  she 
received  him  sometimes  in  the  evenings,  while  the 
marshal  and  several  Legitimistes  were  discussing, 
with  lowered  voices,  in  her  bed-chamber,  the  con- 
quest of  the  kingdom,  which  could  not  be  brought 
about  without  the  aid  of  ideas,  the  only  element  of 
success  which  the  conspirators  forgot.  It  was  a 
charming  vengeance  of  a  pretty  woman,  thus  to 
trick  a  Prime  Minister  by  making  him  serve  as  a 
screen  for  a  conspiracy  against  his  own  government. 
This  adventure,  worthy  of  the  best  days  of  the 
Fronde,  furnished  a  text  for  the  most  ingenious  letter 
in  the  world,  in  which  the  princess  rendered  an 
account  of  the  negotiations  to  MADAME.  The  Due 
de  Maufrigneuse  went  to  La  Vendee  and  was  able  to 
return  secretly,  without  being  compromised,  but  not 
without  having  shared  the  perils  of  MADAME,  who, 
unfortunately,  sent  him  back  when  everything 
appeared  lost.     Perhaps  the  enthusiastic  vigilance 


LA  PRINCESSE   DE  CADIGNAN  123 

of  this  young  man  might  have  baffled  the  treason. 
However  great  may  have  been  the  errors  of  the 
Duchesse  de  Maufrigneuse  in  the  eyes  of  the  bour- 
geois world,  the  conduct  of  her  son  has  certainly 
effaced  them  in  the  eyes  of  the  aristocratic  world. 
There  was  something  of  nobility  and  of  grandeur  in 
thus  risking  the  only  son  and  the  heir  of  an  histor- 
ical house.  There  are  those,  reputed  clever,  who 
repair  the  errors  of  private  life  by  political  services, 
and  reciprocally;  but  no  sordid  calculations  entered 
into  the  actions  of  the  Princesse  de  Cadignan. 
Perhaps  there  were  none,  either,  in  any  of  those  who 
thus  contributed.  Events  count  for  at  least  half  in 
these  misconceptions. 

On  one  of  the  first  fine  days  of  the  month  of  May, 
1833,  the  Marquise  d'Espard  and  the  princess  were 
slowly  promenading,  it  could  not  be  called  walking, 
in  the  only  garden  alley  which  surrounded  the  turf 
of  the  little  enclosure,  about  two  o'clock  in  the 
afternoon,  in  the  declining  sunlight.  The  rays 
reflected  by  the  walls  made  a  warm  atmosphere  in 
this  little  space  perfumed  by  the  flowers,  a  present 
from  the  marchioness. 

"We  will  soon  lose  De  Marsay,"  said  Madame 
d'Espard  to  the  princess,  "and  with  him  will  go 
your  last  hope  of  fortune  for  the  Due  de  Maufrig- 
neuse; for,  since  you  have  tricked  him  so  prettily, 
this  great  politician  has  again  found  his  affection 
for  you." 

"My  son  will  never  yield  to  the  younger  branch," 
replied  the  princess,  "should  he  die  of  hunger,  should 


124  THE  SECRETS  OF 

I  have  to  work  for  him.     But  Berthe  de  Cinq-Cygne 
does  not  hate  him." 

"Children,"  said  Madame  d'Espard,  "have  not 
the  same  engagements  as  their  fathers — " 

"Do  not  speak  of  it,"  said  the  princess.  "It  will 
be  well  enough,  if  1  cannot  bring  the  Marquise  de 
Cinq-Cygne  to  reason,  to  marry  my  son  to  some 
blacksmith's  daughter,  as  did  that  little  d'Esgrig- 
non!" 

"Did  you  love  him?"  asked  the  marchioness. 

"No,"  replied  the  princess  gravely.  "The 
naivete  of  d'Esgrignon  was  a  species  of  depart- 
mental dulness  of  which  I  became  aware  a  little  too 
late,  or  a  little  too  early,  if  you  prefer." 

"And  De  Marsay?" 

"De  Marsay  played  with  me  as  if  I  were  a  doll. 
I  was  so  young!  We  never  fall  in  love  with  the 
men  who  constitute  themselves  our  instructors; they 
ruffle  too  much  our  little  vanities." 

"And  that  little  miserable  who  hanged  himself?" 

"Lucien?  That  was  an  Antinous  and  a  great 
poet.  1  very  sincerely  loved  him.  I  might  have  be- 
come happy.  But  he  loved  a  young  girl,  and  I 
yielded  him  to  Madame  de  Serizy — .  If  he  had  loved 
me,  would  I  have  yielded  him?" 

"What  a  fantastical  thing!  you  to  come  in  con- 
flict with  an  Esther!" 

"She  was  more  beautiful  than  I,"  said  the  prin- 
cess. "Here  are  now  nearly  three  years  which  I 
have  passed  in  a  complete  solitude,"  she  resumed 
after  a  pause;  "well,  this  calm  has  had  in  it  nothing 


LA  PRINCESSE  DE  CADIGNAN  125 

painful.  To  you  alone,  I  would  dare  to  say  that 
here  I  have  found  myself  happy.  I  was  weary  of 
adoration,  fatigued  without  pleasure,  moved  super- 
ficially without  ever  having  my  heart  touched  by 
emotion.  I  have  found  all  the  men  whom  I  have 
known,  little,  mean,  superficial ;  not  one  of  them  has 
ever  caused  me  the  slightest  surprise;  they  were 
without  innocence,  without  grandeur,  without  deli- 
cacy. I  would  have  liked  to  have  met  someone 
who  would  have  seemed  imposing  to  me." 

"Would  you  be,  then,  like  me,  my  dear?"  asked 
the  marchioness;  "would  you  have  never  encoun- 
tered love  in  endeavoring  to  love?" 

"Never,"  replied  the  princess,  interrupting  the 
marchioness,  and  laying  her  hand  on  her  arm. 

Both  of  them  went  and  seated  themselves  on  a 
rustic  wooden  bench,  under  a  bush  of  flowering 
jessamine.  Both  of  them  had  uttered  one  of  those 
words  so  solemn  for  women  of  their  age. 

"Like  you,"  resumed  the  princess,  "perhaps  I 
have  been  more  loved  than  are  other  women ;  but 
through  so  many  adventures,  I  feel  it,  I  have  not 
known  happiness.  1  have  committed  many  follies, 
but  they  all  had  an  object,  and  the  object  recoiled 
in  proportion  as  I  advanced!  In  my  heart  grown 
old,  1  am  conscious  of  an  innocence  which  has  not 
yet  been  touched.  Yes,  under  so  much  experience 
still  lies  a  first  love  which  might  be  abused;  just 
as,  notwithstanding  so  much  wear  and  fatigue,  I 
still  feel  myself  young  and  handsome.  We  can  love 
without  being  happy,  we  can  be  happy  and  not  love ; 


126  THE   SECRETS    OF 

but  to  love  and  to  have  happiness,  to  bring  to- 
gether these  two  immense  human  enjoyments,  that  is 
a  prodigy.  This  prodigy  has  not  been  accomplished 
by  me." 

"Nor  by  me,"  said  Madame  d'Espard. 

"1  am  pursued  in  my  retreat  by  a  frightful 
regret, — I  have  amused  myself,  but  1  have  never 
loved." 

"What  an  incredible  secret!"  cried  the  mar- 
chioness. 

"Ah!  my  dear,"  replied  the  princess,  "these 
secrets,  we  can  only  confide  them  to  ourselves :  no 
one  in  Paris  would  believe  us." 

"And,"  resumed  the  marchioness,  "if  we  had  not 
both  of  us  passed  the  age  of  thirty-six,  we  should 
not,  perhaps,  make  this  avowal  to  ourselves — " 

"Yes,  when  we  are  young  we  have  some  very 
stupid  fatuities!"  said  the  princess.  "We  resem- 
ble at  times  those  poor  young  people  who  play  with 
a  tooth-pick  to  make  believe  that  they  have  dined 
well." 

"In  short,  here  we  are,"  replied  Madame  d'Espard, 
with  a  coquettish  grace,  making  a  charming  gesture 
of  sapient  innocence,  "and  we  are,  it  seems  to  me, 
still  enough  alive  to  take  a  revenge." 

"When  you  told  me,  the  other  day,  that  Beatrix 
had  gone  off  with  Conti,  I  thought  about  it  all 
night  long,"  resumed  the  princess,  after  a  pause. 
"One  must  be  very  happy  to  sacrifice  thus  one's 
position,  one's  future,  and  renounce  the  world 
forever!" 


LA  PRINCESSE   DE   CADIGNAN  127 

"She  is  a  little  fool,"  said  Madame  d'Espard, 
gravely.  "Mademoiselle  de  Touches  was  enchanted 
to  be  rid  of  Conti.  Beatrix  did  not  comprehend 
how  much  this  abandonment,  made  by  a  superior 
woman,  who  has  not  for  a  single  moment  defended 
her  pretended  happiness,  revealed  the  nothingness 
of  Conti." 

"She  will  then  be  unhappy?" 

"She  is  so  already,"  replied  Madame  d'Espard. 
"Of  what  good  is  it  to  leave  your  husband?  In  a 
woman,  is  not  this  an  avowal  of  want  of  power?" 

"Thus  you  believe  that  Madame  de  Rochefide 
was  not  influenced  by  the  desire  to  enjoy  in  peace 
a  real  happiness,  that  happiness  the  enjoyment  of 
which,  for  us  two,  is  still  a  dream?" 

"No;  she  mimicked  Madame  de  Beauseant  and 
Madame  de  Langeais,  who,  it  may  be  said  between 
us,  in  a  century  less  vulgar  than  ours,  would  have 
been,  like  you,  moreover,  figures  as  great  as  those 
of  the  La  Vallieres,  of  the  Montespans,  of  the  Dianes 
de  Poitiers,  of  the  Duchesses  d'Etampes  and  de 
Chateauroux. " 

"Oh!  without  the  king,  my  dear.  Ah!  I  would 
like  to  be  able  to  evoke  those  women  and  ask  them 
if—" 

"But,"  said  the  marchioness,  interrupting  the 
princess,  "it  is  not  necessary  to  make  the  dead 
speak ;  we  know  some  living  women  who  are  happy. 
There  are  more  than  twenty  times  that  1  have 
had  lately,  intimate  conversations  on  such  mat- 
ters  with   the  Comtesse   de  Montcornet,  who,  for 


128  THE   SECRETS   OF 

the  last  fifteen  years,  has  been  the  happiest 
woman  in  the  world  with  that  little  Emile  Blondet, 
— not  one  infidelity,  not  one  wandering  thought; 
they  are  to-day  as  on  the  very  first  day ;  but  we 
have  always  been  interfered  with,  interrupted  at 
the  most  interesting  moment.  These  long  attach- 
ments, like  those  of  Rastignac  and  of  Madame  de 
Nucingen,  of  Madame  de  Camps,  your  cousin,  for 
her  Octave,  have  a  secret,  and  this  secret  we  are 
ignorant  of,  my  dear.  The  world  does  us  the  ex- 
treme honor  to  take  us  for  profligates  worthy  of 
the  Court  of  the  Regent,  and  we  are  as  innocent  as 
two  little  school-girls." 

"I  should  be  still  happy  in  that  innocence," 
cried  the  princess,  jestingly;  "but  ours  is  worse, 
there  is  in  it  something  humiliating.  What  would 
you  have!  We  will  offer  this  mortification  to 
God  in  expiation  of  our  fruitless  researches;  for, 
my  dear,  it  is  not  probable  that  we  shall  find,  in  the 
late  autumn,  the  fine  flower  which  we  have  missed 
during  the  spring  and  the  summer." 

"That  is  not  the  question,"  resumed  the  mar- 
chioness after  a  pause  full  of  retrospective  medita- 
tions. "We  are  still  handsome  enough  to  inspire 
a  passion ;  but  we  shall  never  convince  anyone  of 
our  innocence  and  of  our  virtue." 

"If  it  were  a  lie,  it  would  be  soon  enough  orna- 
mented with  commentaries,  served  up  with  pretty 
preparations  which  would  make  it  believable  and 
devoured  like  a  delicious  fruit;  but  to  make  a  truth 
believed!     Ah !  the  greatest  men  have  perished  in 


LA   PR1NCESSE  DE  CADIGNAN  129 

that  attempt,"  added  the  princess,  with  one  of  those 
fine  smiles  which  the  brush  of  Leonardo  da  Vinci 
alone  could  render. 

"The  simpletons  love  well  enough  sometimes," 
said  the  marchioness. 

"But,"  observed  the  princess,  "for  this,  the  sim- 
pletons themselves  would  not  have  sufficient  cred- 
ulity." 

"You  are  right,"  said  the  marchioness,  laughing. 
"But  it  is  neither  a  fool  nor  even  a  man  of  talent 
that  we  should  seek  for.  To  solve  such  a  problem 
will  require  a  man  of  genius.  Genius  alone  has 
the  faith  of  childhood,  the  religion  of  love,  and  will- 
ingly lets  its  eyes  be  bandaged.  Look  at  Canalis 
and  the  Duchesse  de  Chaulieu.  If,  you  and  I,  we 
have  met  with  men  of  genius,  they  were  perhaps  too 
far  from  us,  too  much  occupied,  and  we  were  too 
frivolous,  too  much  carried  away,  too  much  taken 
up  with  other  things." 

"Ah,  I  would  very  much  like,  however,  not  to 
quit  this  world  without  having  known  the  pleasures 
of  a  true  love,"  cried  the  princess. 

"It  is  nothing  to  inspire  it  only,"  said  Madame 
d'Espard;  "it  is  a  question  of  experiencing  it.  I 
see  many  women  who  are  only  the  pretext  of  a 
passion,  instead  of  being  at  once  the  cause  and  the 
effect  of  it." 

"The  last  passion  which  I  inspired  was  a  saintly 

and  beautiful  thing,"  said  the  princess;  "it  had  a 

future.     Fortune  sent  to  me  this  time  that  man  of 

genius  who  is  due  to  us,  and  who  is  so  difficult  to 

9 


130  THE    SECRETS   OF 

take,  for  there  are  more  pretty  women  than  gen- 
iuses.    But  the  devil  interfered  in  the  adventure." 

"Tell  me  that,  my  dear;  that  is  entirely  new  to 
me." 

"I  only  became  aware  of  this  fine  passion  in  the 
middle  of  the  winter  of  1829.  Every  Friday,  at  the 
Opera,  I  saw  in  the  orchestra  seats  a  young  man  of 
about  thirty  years  of  age,  who  came  there  for  my 
sake,  always  in  the  same  seat,  looking  at  me  with 
eyes  of  fire,  but  often  saddened  by  the  distance 
which  he  found  between  us,  or  perhaps  also  by  the 
impossibility  of  succeeding." 

"Poor  boy!  When  one  is  in  love,  one  becomes 
very  stupid,"  said  the  marchioness. 

"Between  each  act  he  slipped  into  the  corridor," 
resumed  the  princess,  smiling  at  the  friendly 
epigram  with  which  the  marchioness  had  inter- 
rupted her;  "then,  once  or  twice,  to  see  me  or 
to  make  himself  seen,  he  showed  his  nose  at  the 
glass  of  a  box  opposite  mine.  If  I  received  a  visit, 
I  perceived  him  flattened  in  my  doorway;  he  could 
then  throw  me  a  furtive  glance ;  he  had  ended  by 
knowing  by  sight  the  persons  of  my  society;  he  fol- 
lowed them  when  they  came  toward  my  box,  in 
order  to  have  the  benefit  of  the  opening  of  my  door. 
The  poor  youth  doubtless  soon  learned  who  I  was, 
for  he  knew  by  sight  Monsieur  de  Maufrigneuse  and 
my  father-in-law.  1  found,  after  that,  my  mysteri- 
ous unknown  at  the  Italiens,  in  a  seat  in  which  he 
could  admire  me,  directly  opposite,  in  a  simple 
ecstasy : — it  was  very  pretty.     When  coming  out  of 


LA   PRINCESSE  DE  CADIGNAN  131 

the  Opera,  as  out  of  the  Bouffons,  I  saw  him  planted 
in  the  crowd,  motionless  on  his  two  legs, — he  was 
elbowed,  but  he  was  not  moved.  His  eyes  became 
less  brilliant  when  he  perceived  me  leaning  on  the 
arm  of  some  favorite.  All  this  time,  not  a  word, 
not  a  letter,  not  a  demonstration.  You  must  admit 
that  it  was  in  good  taste.  Sometimes,  on  returning 
home  in  the  morning,  I  found  my  man  seated  on 
one  of  the  sides  of  my  porte-cochere.  This  loving 
one  had  very  fine  eyes,  a  thick  and  long  beard 
cut  fan-shaped,  an  imperial,  a  mustache  and 
whiskers ;  you  could  only  see  two  white  cheeks  and 
a  handsome  forehead;  in  short,  a  veritable  antique 
head.  The  prince,  as  you  know,  defended  the 
Tuileries  on  the  side  of  the  quays  during  the  days 
of  July.  He  returned  in  the  evening  to  Saint-Cloud 
when  everything  was  lost.  'My  dear,'  he  said  to 
me,  'I  just  escaped  being  killed  about  four  o'clock. 
I  was  aimed  at  by  one  of  the  insurgents,  when  a 
young  man  with  a  long  beard,  whom  I  think  I  have 
seen  at  the  Italiens  and  who  led  the  attack,  turned 
aside  the  barrel  of  the  musket. '  The  ball  struck 
1  know  not  what  man,  a  quartermaster  in  the  regi- 
ment, and  who  was  within  two  steps  of  my  hus- 
band. This  young  man  must  then  have  been  a 
Republican.  In  1831,  when  I  came  back  to  live  here, 
I  encountered  him  leaning  against  the  wall  of  this 
house ;  he  seemed  joyful  because  of  my  disasters, 
which,  perhaps  it  seemed  to  him,  would  bring  us 
nearer;  but,  since  the  affair  of  Saint-Merri  I  have 
no  longer  seen  him :  he  perished  in  it.     The  evening 


132  THE   SECRETS  OF 

of  the  funeral  of  General  Lamarque,  I  went  out 
on  foot  with  my  son,  and  my  Republican  followed 
us,  sometimes  behind,  sometimes  before  us,  from 
the  Madeleine  to  the  Passage  des  Panoramas,  where 
I  was  going." 

"Is  that  all?"  said  the  marchioness. 

"All,"  replied  the  princess.  "Ah!  the  morning 
of  the  taking  of  Saint-Merri,  a  street  boy  wished  to 
speak  to  me  and  handed  me  a  letter,  written  on  com- 
mon paper,  signed  with  the  name  of  the  unknown." 

"Show  it  to  me,"  said  the  marchioness. 

"No,  my  dear.  This  love  was  too  great  and  too 
holy  in  this  man's  heart  for  me  to  violate  his  secret. 
This  letter,  short  and  terrible,  still  moves  me  to  the 
heart  when  I  think  of  it.  This  dead  man  causes  me 
more  emotion  than  all  the  living  ones  whom  I  have 
distinguished,  he  returns  again  into  my  thoughts." 

"His  name?"  asked  the  marchioness. 

"Oh,  a  very  common  name,  Michel  Chrestien. " 

"You  have  done  very  well  to  tell  it  to  me," 
replied  Madame  d'Espard,  quickly,  "I  have  often 
heard  him  spoken  of.  This  Michel  Chrestien  was 
the  friend  of  a  celebrated  man  whom  you  have 
already  wished  to  see,  of  Daniel  d'Arthez,  who 
comes  once  or  twice  a  winter  to  my  house.  This 
Chrestien,  who  was  really  killed  at  Saint-Merri,  did 
not  lack  for  friends.  I  have  heard  it  said  that  he 
was  one  of  those  great  politicians  to  whom,  as  to 
De  Marsay,  it  is  only  needful  that  the  foot-ball  of 
circumstances  should  come  their  way  for  them  to 
become  all  at  once  what  they  should  be." 


LA  PRINCESSE  DE   CADIGNAN  1 33 

"It  is  better,  then,  that  he  should  be  dead,"  said 
the  princess,  with  a  melancholy  air  under  which  she 
concealed  her  thoughts. 

"Would  you  like  to  meet  d'Arthez  some  evening 
at  my  house?"  asked  the  marchioness;  "you  could 
talk  of  your  apparition." 

"Willingly,  my  dear. " 

Some  days  after  this  conversation,  Blondet  and 
Rastignac,  who  knew  d'Arthez,  promised  Madame 
d'Espard  to  induce  him  to  come  and  dine  with  her. 
This  promise  would  without  doubt  have  been  im- 
prudent were  it  not  for  the  name  of  the  princess, 
the  meeting  with  whom  could  not  be  indifferent  to 
this  great  writer. 

Daniel  d'Arthez,  one  of  those  rare  men,  who  in 
our  day,  unite  a  fine  character  to  a  fine  talent,  had 
already  obtained,  not  all  the  popularity  which  his 
works  should  have  procured  him,  but  a  respectful 
esteem  to  which  chosen  souls  could  add  nothing. 
His  reputation  would  certainly  increase  still  more, 
but  it  had  already  attained  its  full  development  in 
the  eyes  of  connoisseurs, — he  is  of  those  authors 
who,  sooner  or  later,  find  their  true  place,  and 
retain  it.  A  poor  gentleman,  he  had  compre- 
hended his  epoch  in  requiring  everything  from  a 
personal  illustration.  He  had  combated  for  a  long 
period  in  the  Parisian  arena,  against  the  will  of  a 
rich  uncle,  who,  through  a  contradiction  which 
vanity  endeavors  to  justify,  after  having  left  him  a 
prey  to  the  greatest  poverty,  had  bequeathed  to  the 
celebrated  man  the  fortune  pitilessly  refused  to  the 


134  THE   SECRETS  OF 

unknown  writer.  This  sudden  change  had  changed 
nothing  in  the  manners  of  Daniel  d'Arthez:  he  con- 
tinued his  labors  with  a  simplicity  worthy  of  antique 
times,  and  imposed  new  ones  on  himself  by  accept- 
ing a  seat  in  the  Chamber  of  Deputies,  where  he 
took  a  place  on  the  Right.  Since  his  attainment 
to  fame  he  had  gone  out  sometimes  into  society. 
One  of  his  old  friends,  a  great  physician,  Horace 
Bianchon,  had  made  him  acquainted  with  the  Baron 
de  Rastignac,  Under-Secretary  of  State  to  a  min- 
ister, and  friend  of  De  Marsay.  These  two  men  of 
politics  had  with  sufficient  nobility  lent  their  aid  to 
Daniel,  Horace  and  some  intimate  friends  of  Michel 
Chrestien,  who  wished  to  withdraw  the  body  of  this 
Republican  from  the  church  of  Saint-Merri  and  ren- 
der it  funeral  honors.  Gratitude  for  a  service 
which  contrasted  so  strongly  with  the  administra- 
tive rigors  displayed  at  this  period  in  which  politi- 
cal passions  were  so  freely  unchained,  had  bound,  as 
it  were,  d'Arthez  to  Rastignac.  The  Under-Sec- 
retary of  State  and  the  illustrious  minister  were  too 
skilful  not  to  profit  by  this  circumstance;  they 
thus  gained  over  some  friends  of  Michel  Chrestien, 
who,  moreover,  did  not  share  his  opinions,  and  who 
henceforth  attached  themselves  to  the  new  govern- 
ment. One  of  them,  Leon  Giraud,  appointed  at 
first  Maitre  des  Requetes,  became  Councillor  of 
State.  The  existence  of  Daniel  d'Arthez  is  entirely 
consecrated  to  work,  he  only  sees  society  in  occa- 
sional glimpses;  it  is  for  him  like  a  dream.  His 
house  is  a  convent,   in  which  he  leads  the  life  of  a 


LA  PRINCESSE  DE  CADIGNAN  1 35 

Benedictine, — the  same  sobriety  in  the  regimen,  the 
same  regularity  in  the  occupations.  His  friends 
know  that  up  to  the  present  time  woman  has  only 
been  for  him  an  accident  always  dreaded,  he  has 
observed  her  too  much  not  to  fear  her;  but,  by  dint 
of  studying  her,  he  has  ended  by  no  longer  knowing 
her,  resembling  in  this  those  profound  tacticians 
who  will  always  be  beaten  on  unforeseen  ground 
where  their  scientific  axioms  are  modified  and  con- 
tradicted. He  has  remained  the  most  candid  child, 
while  showing  himself  the  most  learned  observer. 
This  contrast,  apparently  impossible,  is  easily 
explicable  for  those  who  are  able  to  measure  the 
depth  which  separates  the  faculties  from  the  feel- 
ings :  one  proceeds  from  the  head  and  the  other  from 
the  heart.  One  can  be  a  great  man  and  a  wicked 
one,  as  one  can  be  a  fool  and  a  sublime  lover. 
D'Arthez  is  one  of  those  privileged  beings  in  whom 
the  finesse  of  the  intellect,  the  wide  extent  of  the 
qualities  of  the  brain,  exclude  neither  the  strength 
nor  the  grandeur  of  feeling.  He  is,  by  a  rare  privi- 
lege, a  man  of  action  and  a  man  of  reflection,  both 
at  once.  His  private  life  is  noble  and  pure.  If  he 
had  carefully  avoided  love  up  to  this  time,  he  knew 
himself  well ;  he  knew  in  advance  what  would  be 
the  empire  of  a  passion  over  him.  During  a  long 
period,  the  heavy  labors  by  which  he  prepared  the 
solid  ground  of  his  glorious  works,  and  the  cold  of 
poverty,  had  been  a  marvelous  preservative.  When 
he  had  attained  to  ease,  he  had  the  most  vulgar  and 
the  most  incomprehensible  liaison   with  a  woman 


136  THE    SECRETS  OF 

sufficiently  attractive,  but  who  belonged  to  the  lower 
orders,  without  any  instruction,  without  manners, 
and  carefully  concealed  from  all  observation. 
Michel  Chrestien  conceded  to  men  of  genius  the 
power  to  transform  the  most  massive  creatures  into 
sylphids,  the  stupid  ones  into  women  of  wit,  the 
peasant  women  into  marchionesses:  the  more  a 
woman  was  accomplished,  the  more  she  lost  in  their 
eyes;  for,  according  to  him,  their  imagination  had  no 
part  to  play  in  this  business.  According  to  him  also, 
love,  the  simple  craving  of  the  senses  in  inferior 
beings,  was,  in  the  superior  beings,  the  most  im- 
mense and  the  most  attaching  of  all  moral  creations. 
In  order  to  justify  d'Arthez,  he  fell  back  upon  the 
example  given  by  Raphael  and  the  Fornarina.  He 
might  have  offered  himself  as  a  model  in  this 
respect,  he  who  saw  an  angel  in  the  Duchesse 
de  Maufrigneuse.  The  curious  whim  of  d'Arthez 
might,  moreover,  be  justified  in  various  ways, — per- 
haps he  had  promptly  and  at  once  despaired  of  ever 
encountering  here  below  a  woman  who  would 
respond  in  any  degree  to  that  delightful  chimera 
which  every  man  of  intelligence  creates  for  himself ; 
perhaps  he  was  possessed  of  a  heart  too  sensitive, 
too  delicate,  to  be  yielded  up  to  a  woman  of  the 
world ;  perhaps  he  thought  it  better  to  give  to  nature 
her  due  merely  and  to  keep  his  illusions  intact  by 
cultivating  his  ideal ;  perhaps  he  had  put  aside  love 
as  something  incompatible  with  his  work,  with  the 
regularity  of  a  monastic  life  in  which  passion  would 
have   disarranged   everything.      For   the   last  few 


LA  PRINCESSE  DE  CADIGNAN  137 

months  d'Arthez  had  been  the  object  of  the  jests  of 
Blondet  and  of  Rastignac,  who  reproached  him  with 
knowing  neither  the  world  nor  women.  According 
to  them,  his  works  were  sufficiently  numerous  and 
carried  sufficiently  far  for  him  to  permit  himself 
some  distractions, — he  had  a  fine  fortune  and  he 
lived  like  a  poor  scholar;  he  enjoyed  nothing, 
neither  his  gold  nor  his  glory;  he  was  ignorant  of 
the  exquisite  pleasure  of  that  noble  and  delicate 
passion  which  certain  women  well-born  and  well- 
educated  inspire  in  others  or  feel  themselves;  was 
it  not  unworthy  of  himself  to  have  never  known 
anything  but  the  grossness  of  love?  Love,  reduced 
to  that  which  nature  makes  of  it,  was  in  their  eyes 
the  most  sottish  thing  in  the  world.  One  of  the 
glories  of  society,  is  to  have  created  the  woman 
where  nature  had  made  a  female ;  to  have  created 
the  perpetuity  of  desire  where  nature  had  thought 
only  of  the  perpetuity  of  the  species;  to  have,  in 
short,  invented  love,  the  very  finest  human  re- 
ligion. D'Arthez  knew  nothing  of  the  charming 
delicacies  of  language,  nothing  of  those  proofs  of 
affection  incessantly  given  by  soul  and  spirit,  noth- 
ing of  those  desires  ennobled  by  manners,  nothing 
of  those  angelic  forms  lent  to  the  grossest  things  by 
refined  and  charming  women.  He  was,  perhaps, 
acquainted  with  the  woman,  but  he  was  ignorant  of 
the  divinity.  It  requires  an  extraordinary  art,  very 
many  beautiful  toilets  of  the  body  and  of  the  soul  in 
a  woman  to  secure  true  love.  Finally,  in  lauding 
the  delightful  depravations  of  the  thought  which 


138  THE   SECRETS   OF 

constitute  the  Parisian  coquetry,  these  two  cor- 
rupters pitied  d'Arthez,  whose  diet  was  simple  and 
wholesome,  and  without  any  seasoning,  for  never 
having  tasted  the  delicacies  of  the  finest  Parisian 
cooking,  and  they  greatly  stimulated  his  curiosity. 
Doctor  Bianchon,  in  whom  d'Arthez  confided,  was 
aware  that  this  curiosity  had  been  finally  aroused. 
The  long  liaison  of  this  great  writer  with  a  common 
woman,  far  from  becoming  satisfactory  through 
habit,  had  now  become  to  him  insupportable;  but  he 
was  restrained  from  breaking  away  by  the  excessive 
timidity  which  takes  possession  of  all  solitary  men. 

"How,"  said  Rastignac,  "when  one  bears  party 
per  bend  dexter  gules  and  or  to  a  bezant  and  a  torteau 
from  one  to  the  other,  why  not  make  this  old  Picard 
shield  glitter  on  a  carriage  panel?  You  have  thirty 
thousand  francs  of  income  and  the  products  of 
your  pen;  you  have  justified  your  motto,  which 
makes  the  pun  so  much  desired  by  our  ancestors : 
ARS,  THESaurusque  virtus  and  you  do  not  prom- 
enade yourself  in  the  Bois  de  Boulogne!  We  are  in 
a  century  in  which  virtue  should  show  itself." 

"If  you  read  your  works  to  that  species  of  gross 
Laforet  who  makes  your  delights,  I  would  pardon 
you  for  keeping  her,"  said  Blondet.  "But,  my 
dear  fellow,  if  you  are  reduced  to  dry  bread  in  mate- 
rial things,  with  respect  to  the  spiritual  you  have 
not  even  bread — " 

This  little  friendly  warfare  had  been  going  on 
between  Daniel  and  his  friends  for  several  months 
when  Madame  d'Espard  asked  Rastignac  and  Blondet 


LA  PRINCESSE  DE  CADIGNAN  139 

to  persuade  d'Arthez  to  come  and  dine  with  her, 
saying  to  them  that  the  Princesse  de  Cadignan  had 
a  very  great  desire  to  meet  this  celebrated  man. 
These  species  of  curiosity  are,  for  certain  women, 
what  the  magic  lantern  is  for  children,  a  pleasure 
for  the  eyes,  a  poor  enough  one,  moreover,  and  full  of 
disenchantments.  The  greater  the  curiosity  and 
interest  which  a  clever  and  distinguished  man 
excites  at  a  distance,  the  less  satisfactory  he  is 
when  brought  near;  the  more  brilliant  he  has  been 
dreamed  to  be,  the  sooner  he  tarnishes.  In  this 
connection,  the  disappointed  curiosity  often  goes  to 
the  extreme  of  injustice.  Neither  Blondet  nor  Ras- 
tignac  could  deceive  d'Arthez,  but  they  said  to  him 
laughingly  that  it  would  offer  him  the  most  seduc- 
tive opportunity  to  clean  up  his  heart  and  to  become 
acquainted  with  the  supreme  delights  which  the 
love  of  a  great  Parisian  lady  might  give.  The 
princess  was  positively  enamored  of  him;  he  had 
nothing  to  fear,  he  had  everything  to  gain  in  this 
interview;  it  would  be  impossible  for  him  to 
descend  from  the  pedestal  on  which  Madame  de 
Cadignan  had  placed  him.  Neither  Blondet  nor 
Rastignac  saw  any  impropriety  in  imputing  this 
love  to  the  princess;  she  could  support  this  calumny, 
she  had  given  rise  to  enough  stories  in  the  past 
One  and  the  other,  they  set  to  work  to  recount  to 
d'Arthez  the  adventures  of  the  Duchesse  de  Mau- 
frigneuse, — her  first  indiscretions  with  De  Marsay, 
her  second  inconsistency  with  d'Ajuda,  whom  she 
had  turned   away   from   his  wife,  thus    avenging 


140  THE  SECRETS  OF 

Madame  de  Beauseant;  her  third  liaison  with  the 
young  d'Esgrignon,  who  had  accompanied  her  into 
Italy  and  had  horribly  compromised  himself  for  her; 
then  how  she  had  been  unhappy  with  a  celebrated 
ambassador,  happy  with  a  Russian  general ;  how 
she  had  been  the  Egeria  of  two  Ministers  of  Foreign 
Affairs,  etc.  D'Arthez  informed  them  that  he  knew 
more  concerning  her  than  they  could  tell  him, 
through  their  poor  friend,  Michel  Chrestien,  who 
had  adored  her  in  secret  for  four  years,  and  had 
almost  gone  mad  over  it. 

"I  often  went  with  my  friend,"  said  Daniel,  "to 
the  Italiens,  to  the  Opera.  The  unhappy  man  ran 
with  me  through  the  streets,  going  as  fast  as  the 
horses,  and  admiring  the  princess  through  the  win- 
dows of  her  coupe.  It  was  to  this  love  that  the 
Prince  de  Cadignan  owed  his  life;  Michel  prevented 
a  gamin  who  would  have  killed  him." 

"Well,  then,  you  will  have  a  subject  all  ready," 
said  Blondet,  smiling.  "There  is  the  woman  that 
you  require ;  she  will  only  be  cruel  through  delicacy, 
and  will  initiate  you  very  graciously  into  the 
mysteries  of  elegance ;  but,  beware,  she  has  devoured 
many  fortunes!  The  beautiful  Diane  is  one  of  those 
dissipators  who  do  not  cost  a  centime,  and  for  whom 
millions  are  expended.  Give  yourself,  body  and 
soul;  but  keep  your  money  in  your  own  hands,  like 
the  old  man  in  Girodet's  'Deluge.'  " 

According  to  this  conversation,  the  princess  had 
ail  the  profundity  of  an  abyss,  the  grace  of  a  queen, 
the  corruption  of  a  diplomat,  the   mystery  of  an 


LA  PRINCESSE  DE  CADIGNAN  141 

initiation,  the  danger  of  a  siren.  These  two  men  of 
wit,  incapable  of  foreseeing  the  denouement  of  this 
pleasantry,  had  finished  by  making  of  Diane 
d'Uxelles  the  most  monstrous  Parisian  woman,  the 
most  skilful  coquette,  the  most  intoxicating  cour- 
tesan in  the  world.  Although  they  might  have  been 
right,  the  woman  whom  they  treated  so  lightly  was 
saintly  and  sacred  for  d'Arthez,  whose  curiosity  had 
no  need  of  being  excited;  he  consented  to  come 
immediately,  and  the  two  friends  wished  nothing 
better  of  him. 

Madame  d'Espard  went  to  see  the  princess  as  soon 
as  she  had  a  reply. 

"My  dear,  do  you  feel  yourself  in  the  way  to  be 
beautiful,  coquettish?"  she  said  to  her;  "come  and 
dine  with  me  in  a  few  days;  I  will  serve  up  to  you 
d'Arthez.  Our  man  of  genius  is  of  a  nature  the 
wildest;  he  fears  women,  and  has  never  loved.  You 
can  prepare  your  theme  on  those  lines.  He  is 
excessively  intelligent,  with  a  simplicity  which  gets 
the  better  of  you  by  depriving  you  of  all  suspicion. 
His  penetration,  all  retrospective,  acts  after  the 
stroke  and  deranges  all  calculations.  You  have 
surprised  him  to-day,  to-morrow  he  will  be  no  longer 
dupe  in  anything." 

"Ah!"  said  the  princess,  "if  I  were  only  thirty, 
I  would  amuse  myself  greatly!  That  which  has 
always  failed  me  up  to  the  present  time  has  been  a 
man  of  wit  to  play  with.  I  have  only  had  partners 
and  never  adversaries.  Love  was  only  a  game  in- 
stead of  being  a  combat." 


142  THE   SECRETS   OF 

"Dear  princess,  admit  that  I  am  very  generous, 
for,  as  you  know,  all  well-regulated  charity — " 

The  two  women  looked  at  each  other  laughingly 
and  clasped  each  other's  hands  with  friendship. 
Certainly,  they  knew  important  secrets  of  each 
other,  not  even  excepting  love  affairs,  and  little 
service  rendered;  for,  to  have  sincere  and  dura- 
ble friendships  between  women,  it  is  necessary 
that  they  should  have  been  united  by  some 
little  crimes.  When  two  female  friends  are  about 
to  kill  each  other,  and  may  be  seen,  poisoned 
dagger  in  hand,  they  offer  a  touching  spectacle  of  a 
harmony  which  is  only  destroyed  at  the  moment 
when  one  of  them  has,  inadvertently,  dropped  her 
weapon.  Therefore,  a  week  later,  there  was  in  the 
house  of  the  marchioness  one  of  those  evenings 
called  des  petits  jours,  reserved  for  intimate  friends, 
to  which  no  one  comes  without  a  verbal  invitation, 
and  during  which  the  door  is  closed.  This  entertain- 
ment  was  given  for  five  persons, — Emile  Blondet 
and  Madame  de  Montcornet,  Daniel  d'Arthez, 
Rastignac,  and  the  Princesse  de  Cadignan.  Includ- 
ing the  mistress  of  the  house,  there  were  as  many 
men  as  women.  Never  did  fortune  permit  of  more 
skilful  preparations  than  these  for  the  meeting  of 
d'Arthez  and  Madame  de  Cadignan.  The  princess 
still  enjoys  to-day  the  reputation  of  being  one  of  the 
most  skilful  women  in  all  matters  of  the  toilet, 
which  is,  for  women,  the  first  of  all  arts.  She 
wore  a  gown  of  blue  velvet  with  large  white  flowing 
sleeves,    the  bodice   showing,    in   guimpe   of  tulle 


LA  PRINCESSE   DE   CADIGNAN  143 

slightly  gathered  and  bordered  with  blue,  rising  to 
within  four  finger  breadths  of  the  neck  and  covering 
the  shoulders,  as  may  be  seen  in  some  of  Raphael's 
portraits.  Her  maid  had  dressed  her  hair  with  some 
white  heather  skilfully  arranged  in  the  ripples  of 
her  blond  tresses,  one  of  those  aids  to  beauty  to 
which  she  owed  her  celebrity.  Certainly  Diane 
did  not  seem  to  be  twenty-five  years  old.  Four 
years  of  solitude  and  repose  had  restored  the  clear- 
ness to  her  skin.  Are  there  not,  moreover,  moments 
in  which  the  desire  to  please  gives  an  increase  of 
beauty  to  women?  The  will  is  not  without  in- 
fluence on  the  variations  of  the  countenance.  If 
violent  emotions  have  the  power  of  yellowing  the 
white  tints  in  people  of  a  sanguine  temperament,  or 
a  melancholy  one,  of  turning  lymphatic  counten- 
ances greenish,  should  there  not  be  given  to  desire,  to 
joy,  to  hope,  the  quality  of  clearing  the  skin,  of  illu- 
minating the  glance  with  a  lively  light,  of  ani- 
mating beauty  by  a  vivid  illumination  like  that  of  a 
fine  morning?  The  fairness  of  the  princess,  so 
celebrated,  had  taken  a  ripened  tint  which  lent  to 
her  an  august  air.  In  this  moment  of  her  life,  ani- 
mated by  so  many  self-reflections  and  by  serious 
thoughts,  her  pensive  and  sublime  forehead  was  in 
admirable  accord  with  the  slow  and  majestic  glance 
of  her  blue  eyes.  It  would  have  been  impossible 
for  the  most  skilful  physiognomist  to  have  discov- 
ered calculation  and  decision  under  this  most  un- 
usual delicacy  of  feature.  There  are  women's  faces 
which  deceive  all  science  and  vanquish  observation 


144  THE   SECRETS   OF 

by  their  calm  and  by  their  fineness;  it  would 
be  necessary  to  be  able  to  examine  them  when  the 
passions  are  speaking,  which  is  difficult;  or  when 
they  have  spoken,  which  serves  for  nothing, — then, 
the  woman  is  old  and  no  longer  dissimulates.  The 
princess  is  one  of  those  impenetrable  women;  she 
is  able  to  make  herself  whatever  she  wishes  to  be, 
— playful,  infantile,  hopelessly  innocent;  or  shrewd, 
serious  and  profound  to  a  disquieting  extent.  She 
came  to  the  house  of  the  marchioness  with  the 
intention  of  being  a  woman  sweet  and  simple,  to 
whom  life  was  known  by  its  deceptions  only,  a 
woman  full  of  spirit  and  sentiment  and  calum- 
niated, but  resigned;  in  short,  an  angel  martyred. 
She  arrived  early,  so  that  she  might  be  found  posed 
on  a  little  sofa,  at  the  corner  of  the  fire,  near  to 
Madame  d'Espard,  as  she  would  wish  to  be  seen,  in 
one  of  those  attitudes  in  which  science  is  carefully 
concealed  under  an  appearance  of  exquisite  natural- 
ness, one  of  those  poses  studied,  thought  out,  which 
bring  into  relief  that  beautiful  serpentine  line, 
which,  starting  from  the  feet,  mounts  gracefully  to 
the  hips  and  continues  by  admirable  curves  to  the 
shoulders,  offering  to  the  regard  all  the  profile  of  the 
body.  A  woman  nude  would  be  less  dangerous 
than  in  a  robe  thus  knowingly  displayed,  which 
covers  everything  and  reveals  everything  at  the 
same  time.  By  a  refinement  which  very  few  women 
would  have  invented,  Diane,  to  the  great  stupefac- 
tion of  the  marchioness,  was  accompanied  by  the 
Due  de  Maufrigneuse.     After  a  moment  of  reflection, 


LA  PRINCESSE  DE  CADIGNAN  145 

Madame  d'Espard  grasped  the  hand  of  the  princess 
with  an  air  of  intelligence: 

"I  understand  you!  In  compelling  d'Arthez  to 
accept  all  the  difficulties  at  the  first  outset,  you  will 
not  have  them  to  overcome  later." 

The  Comtesse  de  Montcornet  came  with  Blondet. 
Rastignac  brought  d'Arthez.  The  princess  did  not 
pay  to  the  celebrated  man  any  of  those  compliments 
with  which  the  vulgar  overwhelmed  him ;  but  she 
displayed  those  little  attentions  full  of  grace  and  of 
respect  which  seemed  as  though  they  might  be  the 
last  limit  of  her  concessions.  She  was  doubtless 
thus  with  the  King  of  France,  with  the  princes. 
She  seemed  happy  to  see  this  great  man  and  pleased 
with  having  sought  him.  Persons  of  good  taste, 
like  the  princess,  are  distinguished  above  all  by 
their  manner  of  listening,  by  an  affability  without 
mockery,  which  is  to  politeness  what  practice  is  to 
virtue.  When  the  celebrated  man  spoke,  she  had 
an  attentive  air  a  thousand  times  more  flattering 
than  the  most  skilful  compliments.  This  mutual 
introduction  was  performed  without  any  emphasis, 
and  gracefully,  by  the  marchioness.  At  dinner, 
d'Arthez  was  placed  near  the  princess,  who,  far 
from  imitating  the  little  exaggerations  of  dieting 
which  are  permitted  by  affectation,  ate  with  a  very 
good  appetite,  and  made  it  a  point  to  show  herself 
as  a  natural  woman,  without  any  strange  fashions. 
Between  two  services,  she  profited  by  a  moment 
during  which  the  conversation  became  general  to 
speak  to  d'Arthez  aside. 
10 


146  THE   SECRETS   OF 

"The  secret  of  the  pleasure  which  I  have  pro- 
cured myself  in  meeting  you,"  she  said,  "is  the 
desire  of  learning  something  of  an  unfortunate 
friend  of  yours,  Monsieur,  who  died  for  another 
cause  than  ours,  to  whom  I  am  under  great  obliga- 
tion, without  having  been  able  to  recognize  them  and 
to  acquit  myself  of  them.  The  Prince  de  Cadignan 
has  shared  my  regrets.  I  have  learned  that  you 
were  one  of  the  best  friends  of  this  poor  youth. 
Your  mutual  friendship,  pure  and  unaltered,  was  a 
title  to  my  consideration.  You  will  not,  then,  find 
it  extraordinary  that  I  have  wished  to  know  all  that 
you  could  tell  me  of  this  being  who  is  so  dear  to 
you.  Though  I  am  attached  to  the  exiled  family, 
and  held  to  entertain  monarchical  opinions,  I  am 
not  of  the  number  of  those  who  believe  it  to  be 
impossible  to  be  at  once  Republican  and  noble  of 
heart.  The  Monarchy  and  the  Republic  are  the  only 
two  forms  of  government  which  do  not  suppress 
elevated  sentiments." 

"Michel  Chrestien  was  an  angel,  Madame," 
replied  Daniel,  in  a  voice  of  emotion.  "I  do  not 
know,  among  the  heroes  of  antiquity,  a  man  who 
was  superior  to  him.  Avoid  entertaining  for  one 
of  these  Republicans  those  narrow  ideas  which 
would  set  up  again  the  Convention  and  the  pretty 
ways  of  the  Committee  of  Public  Safety;  no. 
Michel  dreamed  of  the  Swiss  Federation  applied  to 
the  whole  of  Europe.  Let  us  admit  it,  between 
ourselves,  after  the  admirable  government  of  one 
only,  which,  I  believe,  is  more  peculiarly  adapted 


LA  PRINCESSE  DE  CADIGNAN  147 

to  our  country,  the  system  of  Michel  is  the  suppres- 
sion of  war  in  the  Old  World  and  its  reconstruction 
on  bases  other  than  those  of  conquest  which  formerly 
feudalized  it.  The  Republicans  were,  in  this  respect, 
the  nearest  to  his  idea;  this  is  why  he  lent  them 
his  aid  in  July  and  at  Saint-Merri.  Although  en- 
tirely divided  in  opinion,  we  remained  closely 
united." 

"It  is  the  finest  eulogy  of  your  two  characters," 
said  Madame  de  Cadignan,  timidly. 

"In  the  last  four  years  of  his  life,"  resumed 
Daniel,  "he  confided  to  me  only  his  love  for  you, 
and  this  confidence  knit  still  tighter  the  already 
strong  bonds  of  our  fraternal  friendship.  He  alone, 
Madame,  would  have  loved  you  as  you  should  be 
loved.  How  many  times  have  I  not  endured  the 
rain  in  accompanying  your  carriage  to  your  house, 
in  contending  in  speed  with  your  horses,  so  as  to 
keep  at  the  same  point  on  a  parallel  line  in  order  to 
see  you, — to  admire  you!" 

"But,  Monsieur,"  said  the  princess,  "I  am  going 
to  hold  myself  bound  to  indemnify  you." 

"Why  is  Michel  not  here?"  replied  Daniel,  with 
an  accent  full  of  melancholy. 

"He  would  perhaps  have  not  loved  me  long, "said 
the  princess,  shaking  her  head  with  a  sorrowful 
movement.  "The  Republicans  are  even  more  abso- 
lute in  their  ideas  than  we  other  absolutists,  who 
sin  by  indulgence.  He  doubtless  dreamed  of  me  as 
perfect;  he  would  have  been  cruelly  undeceived. 
We  are  pursued,  we  women,  by  as  many  calumnies 


148  THE   SECRETS  OF 

as  you  have  to  endure  In  a  literary  life,  and  we  are 
not  able  to  defend  ourselves,  neither  by  glory,  nor 
by  our  works.  We  are  not  believed  to  be  that 
which  we  really  are,  but  that  which  we  are  said  to 
be.  There  are  those  who  would  have  very  soon 
covered  up  for  him  the  unknown  woman  which  is 
in  me  under  the  false  portrait  of  the  imaginary 
woman,  which  is  the  true  one  for  the  world.  He 
would  have  believed  me  unworthy  of  the  noble  sen- 
timents which  he  entertained  for  me,  incapable  of 
comprehending  them." 

Here,  the  princess  shook  her  head,  agitating  her 
beautiful  blond  tresses  crowned  with  heather,  by  a 
sublime  gesture.  That  which  she  expressed  of  deso- 
lating doubts,  of  hidden  miseries,  is  unspeakable. 
Daniel  comprehended  everything,  and  looked  at  the 
princess  with  a  lively  emotion. 

"However,  the  day  on  which  I  saw  him  again, 
long  after  the  revolt  of  July,"  she  resumed,  "I  was 
on  the  point  of  yielding  to  the  desire  which  I  felt,  to 
take  him  by  the  hand,  to  grasp  it  before  all  the 
world,  under  the  peristyle  of  the  Theatre-Italien, 
in  giving  him  my  bouquet.  I  thought  that  this  tes- 
timony of  gratitude  would  be  misinterpreted,  like  so 
many  other  noble  things  which  to-day  pass  for  the 
follies  of  Madame  de  Maufrigneuse,  and  which  1 
could  never  explain,  for  there  is  only  my  son  and 
God  who  will  ever  know  me." 

These  words,  breathed  into  the  listener's  ear  in 
such  a  manner  as  to  be  unheard  by  all  the  other 
guests,  and  with  an  accent  worthy  of  the  most  skilful 


LA  PRINCESSE  DE  CADIGNAN  149 

comedienne,  should  have  gone  direct  to  the  heart; 
and  they  did  attain  to  that  of  d'Arthez.  It 
did  not  concern  the  celebrated  writer;  this  woman 
sought  to  reestablish  herself  in  the  favor  of  a  dead 
man.  She  might  have  been  slandered,  she  wished 
to  know  if  nothing  had  tarnished  her  in  the  eyes 
of  him  who  loved  her.  Had  he  died  with  all  his 
illusions? 

"Michel,"  replied  d'Arthez,  "was  one  of  those 
men  who  love  absolutely,  and  who,  if  they  choose 
badly,  know  how  to  suffer  for  it  without  ever  re- 
nouncing her  whom  they  have  elected." 

"Was  I,  then,  loved  in  this  manner? — "  she  cried, 
with  an  air  of  exalted  beatitude. 

"Yes,  Madame." 

"I,  then,  made  his  happiness?" 

"During  four  years." 

"A  woman  never  learns  such  a  thing  as  this 
without  experiencing  a  proud  satisfaction,"  she 
said,  turning  her  gentle  and  noble  countenance 
towards  d'Arthez  with  a  movement  full  of  modest 
confusion. 

One  of  the  most  knowing  manoeuvres  of  these 
comediennes  is  to  veil  their  manners  when  the 
words  are  too  expressive,  and  to  make  the  eyes 
speak  when  the  discourse  is  restrained.  These 
skilful  dissonances,  slipped  into  the  music  of  their 
love,  false  or  true,  bring  about  invincible  seductions. 

"Is  it  not,"  she  resumed,  lowering  her  voice  still 
more,  and  after  assuring  herself  of  having  produced 
the  desired  effect,  "is  it  not  to  have  accomplished 


150  THE   SECRETS  OF 

her  destiny  to  have  rendered  happy,  and  without 
crime,  a  great  man?" 

"Did  he  not  write  it  to  you  ?" 

"Yes;  but  I  wished  to  be  very  sure  of  it,  for, 
believe  me,  Monsieur,  in  setting  me  so  high,  he  did 
not  deceive  himself." 

Women  know  how  to  give  to  their  words  a  pecu- 
liar saintliness;  they  communicate  to  them  I  know 
not  what  of  vibration  which  extends  the  sense  of 
their  ideas  and  lends  them  profundity;  if,  later,  their 
charmed  auditor  no  longer  recalls  what  they  have 
said,  the  object  has  been  completely  attained, 
which  is  the  proper  quality  of  eloquence.  The 
princess  might  at  this  moment  have  worn  the  diadem 
of  France,  her  forehead  would  not  have  been  more 
imposing  than  it  was  under  the  beautiful  diadem  of 
her  tresses  elevated  in  coils  like  a  tower,  and  orna- 
mented with  the  pretty  heather.  This  woman 
seemed  to  walk  on  the  flood  of  calumny,  like  the 
Saviour  on  the  waves  of  the  Lake  of  Tiberius,  en- 
veloped in  the  winding-sheet  of  this  love,  like  an 
angel  in  his  nimbus.  There  was  nothing  in  it 
which  suggested  either  the  necessity  of  being  thus, 
or  the  desire  to  appear  grand  or  loving, — it  was 
all  simple  and  calm.  A  living  man  could  never 
have  rendered  to  the  princess  the  services  which 
she  obtained  of  this  dead  one.  D'Arthez,  a  solitary 
worker,  to  whom  the  practices  of  the  world  were 
unknown,  and  whom  study  had  enveloped  with  its 
protecting  veils,  was  the  dupe  of  this  accent  and  of 
these  words.     He  was  under  the   charm  of  these 


LA  PRINCESSE   DE  CADIGNAN  1 5  I 

exquisite  manners;  he  admired  this  perfect  beauty, 
ripened  by  unhappiness,  restored  in  retirement;  he 
adored  the  union,  so  rare,  of  a  fine  intelligence  and 
a  beautiful  soul.  Finally,  he  wished  to  obtain  for 
himself  the  heritage  of  Michel  Chrestien.  The 
commencement  of  this  passion  was,  as  it  is  among 
most  profound  thinkers,  an  idea.  In  seeing  the 
princess,  in  studying  the  shape  of  her  head,  the 
disposition  of  her  so  gentle  features,  her  figure,  her 
foot,  her  hands  so  finely  modeled,  so  much  more 
closely  than  he  had  been  able  to  do  while  accom- 
panying his  friend  in  his  foolish  courses  through  the 
street,  he  remarked  the  surprising  phenomenon  of 
the  moral  second  sight  which  the  man  exalted  by 
love  finds  in  himself.  With  what  lucidity  had  not 
Michel  Chrestien  read  this  heart,  this  soul,  lit  up 
by  the  fires  of  love?  The  Federalist  had  then  been 
divined,  he  also!  he  would  have  doubtless  been 
happy.  The  princess  had  thus  in  the  eyes  of 
d'Arthez  a  great  charm,  she  was  surrounded  by  an 
aureole  of  poesy.  During  the  dinner,  the  writer 
recalled  to  himself  the  despairing  confidences  of  the 
Republican  and  his  hopes  when  he  thought  himself 
loved;  the  beautiful  poem  which  a  true  feeling 
inspires  had  been  sung  for  him  alone  because  of  this 
woman.  Unknowingly,  Daniel  was  to  profit  by 
these  preparations  due  to  chance.  It  is  but  seldom 
that  a  man  passes  without  remorse  from  the  position 
of  a  confidant  to  that  of  a  rival,  and  d'Arthez  could 
now  do  so  without  crime.  In  a  moment  he  per- 
ceived the  enormous  differences  which  exist  between 


152  THE   SECRETS  OF 

superior  women,  these  flowers  of  the  great  world, 
and  vulgar  women,  whom  he  knew,  however,  as  yet, 
by  but  one  specimen ;  he  was  then  assailed  by  the 
most  accessible  sides,  the  most  tender,  of  his  soul 
and  of  his  genius.  Instigated  by  his  simplicity,  by 
the  impetuosity  of  his  ideas,  to  take  possession  of  this 
woman,  he  found  himself  restrained  by  the  world 
and  by  the  barrier  which  the  manner,  let  us  say  the 
word,  which  the  majesty,  of  the  princess  put 
between  herself  and  him.  Thus,  for  this  man,  not 
accustomed  to  respect  that  which  he  loved,  there 
was  here  something,  I  know  not  what,  of  irritating, 
a  charm  all  the  more  great,  that  he  was  forced  to 
conceal  its  effects  upon  himself  and  to  guard  his 
attempts  without  betraying  himself.  The  con- 
versation, which  related  to  Michel  Chrestien 
through  the  dinner  to  the  dessert,  furnished  an 
admirable  pretext  to  Daniel,  as  to  the  princess,  for 
conversing  with  lowered  voices, — love,  sympathy, 
divination;  for  her  to  pose  as  a  woman  misunder- 
stood, calumniated;  for  him  to  slip  his  feet  into  the 
shoes  of  the  dead  Republican.  Perhaps  this  ingen- 
uous man  was  surprised  to  find  himself  regretting 
his  friend  so  little.  At  the  moment  when  the  mar- 
vels of  the  dessert  were  resplendent  on  the  table,  in 
the  light  of  the  candelabra,  under  the  shelter  of  the 
bouquets  of  natural  flowers  which  separated  the 
guests  by  a  brilliant  hedge,  richly  colored  with  fruits 
and  with  sweetmeats,  the  princess  was  pleased  to 
bring  to  a  close  this  succession  of  confidences  by  a 
delicious  word,  accompanied  by  one  of  those  glances 


LA  PRINCESSE   DE  CADIGNAN  1 53 

by  the  aid  of  which  blond  women  seem  to  be 
brunettes,  and  in  which  she  expressed  finely  this 
idea  that  Daniel  and  Michel  were  two  twin  souls. 
D'Arthez  from  this  moment  threw  himself  into  the 
general  conversation,  bringing  to  it  an  infantile  joy 
and  a  little  fatuous  air  worthy  of  a  scholar.  The 
princess  took  in  the  simplest  manner  his  arm  to 
return  into  the  little  salon  of  the  marchioness.  In 
traversing  the  grand  salon,  she  walked  slowly;  and, 
when  she  was  separated  from  the  marchioness,  to 
whom  Blondet  had  given  his  arm,  by  a  sufficiently 
considerable  interval,  she  halted  d'Arthez. 

"I  do  not  desire  to  be  inaccessible  to  the  friend  of 
that  poor  Republican,"  she  said  to  him.  "And, 
although  I  have  made  a  law  for  myself  to  receive  no 
one,  you  alone  of  all  the  world  should  be  able  to 
enter  my  house.  Do  not  think  that  this  is  a  favor. 
A  favor  is  always  something  for  strangers  only,  and 
it  seems  to  me  that  we  are  old  friends, — I  would 
wish  to  see  in  you  the  brother  of  Michel." 

D'Arthez  could  only  press  the  arm  of  the  princess, 
he  found  nothing  to  reply.  When  the  coffee  was 
served,  Diane  de  Cadignan  enveloped  herself,  by  a 
coquettish  movement,  in  a  large  shawl  and  rose. 
Blondet  and  Rastignac  were  men  too  high  in  the 
world  of  politics  and  too  much  accustomed  to  the 
ways  of  society  to  utter  the  slightest  bourgeois  ex- 
clamation and  endeavor  to  retain  the  princess;  but 
Madame  d'Espard  caused  her  friend  to  seat  herself 
again  by  taking  her  by  the  hand  and  saying  in  her 
ear: 


154  THE   SECRETS  OF 

"Wait  till  the  domestics  have  dined;  the  carriage 
is  not  ready." 

And  she  made  a  sign  to  the  valet  de  chambre,  who 
carried  away  the  coffee  service.  Madame  de  Mont- 
cornet  understood  that  the  princess  and  Madame 
d'Espard  had  something  to  say  to  each  other,  and 
engrossed  the  attention  of  d'Arthez,  Rastignac  and 
Blondet,  whom  she  amused  by  one  of  those  extrava- 
gant paradoxical  attacks  of  which  the  Parisian 
women  have  such  a  marvelous  understanding. 

"Well,"  said  the  marchioness  to  Diane,  "what 
do  you  make  of  him?" 

"Why,  he  is  an  adorable  child;  he  is  just  out  of 
his  swaddling-clothes.  Truly,  this  time  again,  there 
will  be,  as  always,  a  triumph  without  any  contest. " 

"It  is  desperately  discouraging,"  said  Madame 
d'Espard,  "but  there  is  one  resource." 

"How?" 

"Let  me  become  your  rival." 

"As  you  like,"  replied  the  princess;  "I  have 
made  up  my  mind.  Genius  is  in  a  certain  manner  a 
being  of  the  brain,  I  do  not  know  what  will  touch 
its  heart;  we  will  talk  about  it  later." 

Hearing  this  last  word,  the  meaning  of  which  was 
impenetrable,  Madame  d'Espard  took  part  in  the 
general  conversation  and  appeared  neither  hurt  as 
to  the  "As  you  like,"  nor  curious  to  know 
what  this  interview  would  lead  to.  The  princess 
remained  about  an  hour  seated  on  the  little  sofa  near 
the  fire,  in  the  attitude,  full  of  nonchalance  and 
abandonment,  which   Guerin    has  given  to  Didon, 


LA  PRINCESSE  DE  CADIGNAN  155 

listening  with  all  the  attention  of  one  absorbed,  and 
looking  at  Daniel  from  time  to  time,  without  dis- 
guising an  admiration  which,  nevertheless,  did  not 
exceed  due  bounds.  She  made  her  escape  when  the 
carriage  was  announced,  after  having  exchanged  a 
clasp  of  the  hand  with  the  marchioness  and  an  in- 
clination of  the  head  with  Madame  de  Montcornet. 

The  evening  came  to  a  termination  without  further 
reference  to  the  princess.  The  species  of  exaltation 
experienced  by  d'Arthez  was  taken  advantage  of  by 
the  others,  and  he  displayed  all  the  treasures  of  his 
mind.  Certainly  he  had  in  Rastignac  and  in 
Blondettwo  acolytes  of  the  first  quality  in  regard  to 
finesse  of  wit  and  extended  intelligence.  As  for  the 
two  ladies,  they  have  long  been  known  as  among 
the  most  spirituelle  of  the  higher  society.  This 
was  then  a  halt  in  an  oasis,  an  enjoyment  rare  and 
perfectly  appreciated  bythese  personages  habitually 
possessed  by  the  ''Beware"  of  the  world, of  the  salons 
and  of  political  life.  There  are  those  who  have  the 
privilege  of  being  among  men,  as  it  were,  the  benefi- 
cent stars  whose  light  illumines  all  minds,  whose 
rays  warm  all  hearts.  D'Arthez  was  one  of  those 
fine  souls.  A  writer,  who  elevates  himself  to  his 
height,  acquires  the  habit  of  reflecting  on  all  things, 
and  forgets  sometimes  in  the  world  that  it  is  not 
necessary  to  say  everything;  it  is  impossible  for 
him  to  have  the  restraint  of  those  who  live  in  it 
continually;  but,  as  his  flights  are  nearly  always 
marked  by  a  quality  of  originality,  no  one  could 
complain  of  him.    This  savor  so  rare  among  talents, 


156  THE  SECRETS  OF 

this  youthfulness  full  of  simplicity,  which  rendered 
d'Arthez  so  nobly  original,  made  of  this  evening 
something  delightful.  He  went  away  with  the 
Baron  de  Rastignac,  who,  in  conducting  him  to  his 
own  house,  naturally  spoke  of  the  princess,  asking 
him  what  he  had  thought  of  her. 

"Michel  was  right  to  love  her,"  replied  d'Arthez; 
"she  is  an  extraordinary  woman." 

"Very  truly  extraordinary,"  replied  Rastignac,  in 
a  tone  of  raillery.  "By  your  accent,  I  see  that  you 
love  her  already;  you  will  be  in  her  house  before 
three  days,  and  I  am  too  old  an  habitue  of  Paris  not 
to  know  what  will  come  to  pass  between  you.  Well, 
my  dear  Daniel,  I  entreat  you  to  not  allow  your 
personal  interests  to  become  involved  in  the  least 
confusion.  Love  the  princess  if  you  feel  love  for 
her  in  your  heart;  but  think  of  your  fortune.  She 
has  never  taken  nor  demanded  two  farthings  from 
any  one  whatever,  she  is  far  too  much  a  d'Uxelles 
and  Cadignan  for  that;  but,  from  my  certain  knowl- 
edge, outside  her  own  fortune,  which  was  very 
considerable,  she  has  dissipated  several  millions. 
How  ?  why  ?  by  what  means  ?  no  one  knows ;  she 
does  not  know  herself.  I  have  seen  her  make  away 
with,  thirteen  years  ago,  the  fortune  of  a  charming 
young  man  and  that  of  an  old  notary  in  twenty 
months." 

"Thirteen  years  ago!"  said  d'Arthez;  "why,  how 
old  is  she?" 

"You  did  not  then  see,"  replied  Rastignac,  laugh- 
ing, "at  the  table  her  son,  the  Due  de  Maufrigneuse, 


LA  PRINCESSE  DE  CADIGNAN  157 

a  young  man  of  nineteen?      Now,    nineteen  and 
seventeen  make — " 

"Thirty-six!"  cried  the  author,  in  surprise;  "I 
would  have  given  her  twenty  years." 

"She  would  have  accepted  them,"  said  Ras- 
tignac;  "but  you  need  not  worry  on  that  subject, 
she  will  never  be  more  than  twenty  for  you.  You  are 
about  to  enter  into  the  most  fantastic  world. — Good- 
night, here  you  are  at  home,"  said  the  baron,  seeing 
his  carriage  enter  the  Rue  de  Bellefond,  in  which 
d'Arthez  lived  in  a  pretty  house  of  his  own;  "we 
will  see  each  other  during  the  week  at  Mademoiselle 
des  Touches." 

D'Arthez  allowed  love  to  penetrate  into  his  heart 
after  the  manner  of  Uncle  Toby,  without  making 
the  least  resistance;  he  proceeded  by  adoration 
without  criticism,  by  pure  admiration.  The  princess, 
this  beautiful  creature,  one  of  the  most  remarkable 
creatures  of  this  monstrous  Paris,  in  which  every- 
thing is  possible  in  good  as  in  evil,  became — how- 
ever common  the  misfortune  of  the  times  has  ren- 
dered this  word, — the  angel  dreamed  of.  In  order 
to  thoroughly  comprehend  the  sudden  transformation 
of  this  illustrious  author,  it  would  be  necessary  to 
know  all  that  solitude  and  constant  labor  leave  of 
innocence  in  the  heart;  all  that  love,  reduced  to  mere 
need  and  become  tedious  by  the  side  of  an  ignoble 
woman,  develops  of  desires  and  of  fancies,  how 
much  it  excites  regrets  and  gives  birth  to  divine 
sentiment  in  the  very  highest  regions  of  the  soul. 
D'Arthez  was  indeed  the  child,  the  collegian  whom 


158  THE   SECRETS  OF 

the  tact  of  the  princess  had  suddenly  recognized. 
An  almost  similar  illumination  had  taken  place  in 
the  beautiful  Diane.  She  had  then,  at  last,  encoun- 
tered that  superior  man  whom  all  women  desire,  if 
only  to  amuse  themselves  with  him;  that  puissance 
to  which  they  consent  to  obey  were  it  only  for  the 
pleasure  of  mastering  it;  she  had  found,  in  short, 
the  great  qualities  of  intelligence  united  to  the  sim- 
plicity of  the  heart,  to  a  newness  of  passion;  then 
she  saw,  by  an  unheard-of  good  fortune,  all  these 
riches  contained  in  a  form  which  pleased  her. 
D'Arthez  seemed  to  her  handsome,  perhaps  he  was. 
Although  he  had  arrived  at  the  serious  age  of  man, 
at  thirty-eight  years,  he  had  preserved  a  flower  of 
youth  due  to  the  sober  and  chaste  life  which  he  had 
led,  and,  like  studious  men,  like  men  of  the  state, 
he  had  acquired  a  reasonable  embonpoint.  While 
very  young  he  had  offered  a  slight  resemblance  to 
General  Bonaparte.  This  resemblance  was  still 
visible,  as  much  so  as  a  man  with  black  eyes,  with 
thick  brown  hair,  can  resemble  this  sovereign  with 
blue  eyes,  with  chestnut  locks ;  but  all  that  there 
had  been  formerly  of  ardent  and  noble  ambition  in 
the  eyes  of  d'Arthez  had  been,  as  it  were,  made 
tender  by  success.  The  thoughts  with  which  his 
forehead  had  been  burdened  had  flowered,  the  hollow 
lines  of  his  face  had  been  filled  out.  A  happy 
comfort  had  spread  its  golden  tones  where  in 
his  youth  poverty  had  mingled  the  yellowish  tints 
of  the  temperaments  whose  forces  were  banded  to- 
gether in  order  to  sustain  the  crushing  and  continuous 


LA   PRINCESSE   DE   CADIGNAN  1 59 

combat.  If  you  observe  with  care  the  fine  faces 
of  the  antique  philosophers,  you  will  perceive 
in  them  always  the  deviations  from  the  perfect  type 
of  the  human  countenance  to  which  each  physiog- 
nomy owes  its  originality,  rectified  by  the  habit  of 
meditation,  by  the  constant  calm  indispensable  to 
intellectual  labor.  The  most  unquiet  countenances, 
like  that  of  Socrates,  become  finally  of  a  serenity 
almost  divine.  To  this  noble  simplicity  which 
adorned  his  majestic  head,  d'Arthez  joined  a 
candid  expression,  the  naturalness  of  children, 
and  a  touching  benevolence.  He  had  not  that 
politeness,  always  with  a  touch  of  falseness,  by 
which,  in  this  world,  those  persons  the  best  educated 
and  the  most  amiable  assume  qualities  which  are 
often  lacking  to  them,  and  which  leave  seriously 
wounded  those  who  recognize  that  they  have  been 
duped.  He  might  fail  to  come  up  to  the  require- 
ment of  some  of  the  worldly  laws  in  consequence  of 
his  isolation;  but,  as  he  never  offended,  this  sort  of 
perfume  of  wildness  rendered  still  more  gracious  the 
affability  peculiar  to  men  of  great  talent,  who  know 
how  to  leave  their  superiority  at  home  in  order  to 
let  themselves  down  to  the  social  level,  in  order  to, 
like  Henry  IV.,  lend  their  backs  to  the  children  and 
their  wit  to  the  simpletons. 

In  returning  home,  the  princess  did  not  debate 
with  herself,  any  more  than  d'Arthez  had  defended 
himself  against  the  charm  which  she  had  thrown 
over  him.  Everything  was  now  said  for  her:  she 
loved  with  her  science  and  with  her  ignorance.     If 


160  THE  SECRETS  OF 

she  interrogated  herself,  it  was  to  ask  herself  if  she 
merited  so  great  a  happiness,  and  what  she  had 
done  that  Heaven  had  sent  her  such  an  angel.  She 
wished  to  be  worthy  of  this  love,  to  perpetuate  it, 
to  appropriate  it  to  herself  forever,  and  to  finish 
softly  her  life  of  a  pretty  woman  in  that  paradise  of 
which  she  caught  glimpses.  As  for  resistance,  for 
quibbling  with  herself,  for  coquetting,  she  did  not 
even  think  of  it  She  was  thinking  of  a  very 
different  thing!  She  had  comprehended  the  grand- 
eur of  men  of  genius,  she  had  divined  that  they  do 
not  submit  superior  women  to  ordinary  laws.  Thus, 
by  one  of  those  rapid  perceptions  peculiar  to  these 
great  feminine  spirits,  she  had  promised  herself  to 
be  yielding  at  the  very  first  desire.  From  the 
knowledge  which  she  had  gained,  in  one  interview 
only,  of  the  character  of  d'Arthez,  she  had  sus- 
pected that  this  desire  would  not  be  soon  enough 
expressed  not  to  leave  her  the  time  in  which  to 
make  of  herself  that  which  she  wished,  that  which 
she  should  be  in  the  eyes  of  this  sublime  lover. 

Here  commences  one  of  those  unknown  comedies 
played,  in  the  interior  tribunal  of  the  conscience, 
between  two  beings,  of  which  one  will  be  the  dupe 
of  the  other,  and  which  push  back  the  boundaries  of 
perversity,  one  of  those  black  and  comic  dramas, 
compared  with  which  that  of  Tarhiffe  is  a  baga- 
telle; but  which  are  not  of  the  scenic  world,  and 
which,  that  everything  in  them  may  be  extraordi- 
nary, are  natural,  conceivable  and  justified  by 
necessity,  a  horrible  drama  which  should  be  named 


LA   PRINCESSE  DE  CADIGNAN  l6l 

the  seamy  side  of  vice.  The  princess  commenced 
by  sending  for  the  works  of  d'Arthez.  She  had  not 
read  the  first  word  of  them ;  and,  nevertheless,  she 
had  sustained  twenty  minutes  of  eulogistic  discus- 
sion with  him,  without  quid  pro  quo!  She  read 
them  all.  Then  she  wished  to  compare  his  books 
with  the  best  which  contemporary  literature  had 
produced.  She  had  an  indigestion  of  the  mind  the 
day  on  which  d'Arthez  came  to  see  her.  Expecting 
this  visit,  she  had  every  day  made  a  superior  toilet, 
one  of  those  toilets  which  express  an  idea  and  cause 
it  to  be  accepted  by  the  eyes,  without  knowing 
how  or  why.  She  offered  to  the  regard  a  harmoni- 
ous combination  of  gray  colors,  a  sort  of  half-mourn- 
ing, a  grace  full  of  abandonment,  the  vestments 
of  a  woman  who  no  longer  held  to  life  but  by 
a  few  natural  ties,  her  child  perhaps,  and  who  was 
weary.  She  bore  witness  to  an  elegant  disgust 
which,  however,  would  not  go  as  far  as  suicide;  she 
would  complete  her  term  in  the  terrestrial  bagnio. 
She  received  d'Arthez  like  a  woman  who  is  wait- 
ing for  him,  and  as  if  he  had  already  been  a  hun- 
dred times  in  her  house;  she  did  him  the  honor  to 
treat  him  like  an  old  acquaintance;  she  put  him  at 
his  ease  by  a  single  gesture  indicating  to  him  a  sofa 
on  which  to  be  seated,  while  she  finished  the  letter 
already  commenced.  The  conversation  began  in 
the  commonest  manner, — the  weather,  the  minis- 
try, the  illness  of  De  Marsay,  the  hopes  of  the 
Legitimistes.  D'Arthez  was  an  Absolutist,  the  prin- 
cess could  not  ignore  the  opinions  of  a  man  seated 
ii 


162  THE   SECRETS    OF 

in  the  Chamber  among  the  fifteen  or  twenty  persons 
who  represented  the  Legitimiste  party;  she  found 
an  opportunity  to  relate  to  him  how  she  had  tricked 
De  Marsay;  then,  by  a  transition  which  was  fur- 
nished her  by  the  devotion  of  the  Prince  de  Ca- 
dignan  to  the  royal  family  and  MADAME,  she  drew 
the  attention  of  d'Arthez  to  the  prince. 

"He  has  at  least  in  his  favor  the  love  he  bears 
his  masters  and  his  devotion  to  them,"  said  she. 
"His  public  character  consoles  me  for  all  the  suffer- 
ing which  his  private  character  has  caused  me. — 
For,"  she  went  on,  leaving  the  prince  lightly  aside, 
"have  you  not  remarked,  you  who  know  all,  that 
men  have  two  characters, — they  have  one  for  their 
household,  for  their  wives,  for  their  private  life,  and 
which  is  the  true  one;  there,  no  more  mask,  no 
more  dissimulation,  they  do  not  give  themselves  the 
trouble  to  pretend,  they  are  what  they  are,  and  are 
often  horrible;  then  the  world,  others,  the  salons, 
the  Court,  the  sovereign,  politics,  see  them  grand, 
noble,  generous,  in  a  costume  embroidered  with 
virtues,  adorned  with  beautiful  language,  full  of 
exquisite  qualities.  What  a  horrible  pleasantry! 
And  people  are  surprised  sometimes  at  the  smile  of 
certain  women,  at  their  air  of  superiority  with  their 
husbands,  at  their  indifference! — " 

She  let  her  hand  fall  on  the  arm  of  her  chair, 
without  finishing  her  sentence,  but  this  gesture  com- 
pleted her  speech  admirably.  As  she  saw  d'Arthez 
occupied  in  studying  her  flexible  figure,  so  well  dis- 
posed in  the    depths  of   her  cushioned   arm-chair, 


LA  PRINCESSE   DE   CADIGNAN  163 

occupied  with  the  fall  of  her  skirts,  and  with 
a  pretty  little  gather  which  relieved  the  stiffness  of 
her  corsage,  one  of  those  hardihoods  of  the  toilet 
which  are  only  possible  for  figures  sufficiently 
slender  to  lose  nothing  by  them,  she  resumed  the 
sequence  of  her  thoughts  as  if  she  were  speaking  to 
herself: 

"I  will  not  continue.  You  have  ended,  you 
writers,  by  rendering  very  ridiculous  the  women 
who  pretend  to  be  misunderstood,  who  are  unfortu- 
nately married,  who  make  themselves  dramatic, 
interesting,  which  seems  to  me  to  the  last  degree 
bourgeois.  One  yields,  and  everything  is  said,  or 
one  resists  and  you  are  amused.  In  both  cases, 
silence  should  be  kept.  It  is  true  that  I  have  neither 
known  how  to  yield  altogether  nor  to  resist  alto- 
gether ;  but  perhaps  this  is  a  still  greater  reason  to 
keep  silence.  What  foolishness  it  is  in  women  to 
complain!  If  they  have  not  been  the  strongest, 
they  have  been  wanting  in  wit,  in  tact,  in  finesse; 
they  deserve  their  fate.  Are  they  not  the  queens 
in  France?  They  play  with  you  as  they  wish, 
when  they  wish,  and  as  much  as  they  wish." 

She  made  her  perfume  flask  dance  with  a  mar- 
velous movement  of  feminine  impertinence  and  of 
mocking  gayety. 

"I  have  often  heard  miserable  little  specimens 
regret  that  they  were  women,  wished  that  they  were 
men;  I  have  always  looked  at  them  with  pity,"  she 
said,  continuing.  "If  I  had  to  choose,  I  should  still 
prefer  to  be  a  woman.     A  fine  pleasure  it  is  to  owe 


164  THE  SECRETS  OF 

one's  triumphs  to  strength,  to  all  the  powers  which 
are  given  you  by  the  laws  made  by  you !  But, 
when  we  see  you  at  our  feet,  uttering  and  doing 
sillinesses,  is  it  not  then  an  intoxicating  happiness 
to  feel  in  one's  self  the  weakness  which  triumphs? 
When  we  succeed,  we  are  obliged  to  keep  silent, 
under  pain  of  losing  our  empire.  Beaten,  women 
are  still  obliged  to  keep  silent  through  pride.  The 
silence  of  the  slave  frightens  the  master." 

This  cackling  was  chirruped  in  a  voice  so  softly 
mocking,  so  delicate,  with  such  coquettish  move- 
ments of  the  head,  that  d'Arthez,  to  whom  this 
species  of  woman  was  totally  unknown,  remained  ex- 
actly like  the  partridge  charmed  by  the  hunting  dog. 

"I  pray  you,  Madame,"  said  he,  finally,  "explain 
to  me  how  a  man  has  been  able  to  make  you  suffer, 
and  you  may  be  sure  that,  even  in  that  in  which 
all  women  are  common,  you  would  be  distinguished 
even  though  you  might  not  have  a  manner  of  say- 
ing things  which  would  render  a  cook-book  inter- 
esting." 

"You  go  quickly  in  friendship,"  said  she  with 
her  grave  voice,  which  rendered  d'Arthez  serious 
and  disquieted. 

The  conversation  changed,  the  hour  advanced. 
The  poor  man  of  genius  went  away  in  a  contrite 
frame  of  mind  for  having  appeared  curious,  for  hav- 
ing wounded  this  heart,  and  believing  that  this 
woman  had  strangely  suffered.  She  had  passed  her 
life  in  amusing  herself,  she  was  a  real  female  Don 
Juan,  with  this  difference  only,  that  it  was  not  to 


LA  PRINCESSE  DE  CADIGNAN  165 

supper  that  she  would  have  invited  the  marble 
statue,  and  certainly  she  would  have  gotten  the  bet- 
ter of  the  statue. 

It  is  impossible  to  continue  this  recital  without 
saying  a  word  of  the  Prince  de  Cadignan,  better 
known  under  the  name  of  the  Due  de  Maufrigneuse; 
otherwise,  the  salt  in  the  miraculous  inventions  of 
the  princess  would  disappear,  and  strangers  would 
comprehend  nothing  of  the  frightful  Parisian  comedy 
which  she  was  going  to  play  for  a  man.  Monsieur 
le  Due  de  Maufrigneuse,  as  a  true  son  of  the  Prince 
de  Cadignan,  is  a  man  long  and  dry,  with  a  most 
elegant  figure,  full  of  graciousness,  making  charm- 
ing speeches,  who  became  colonel  by  the  grace  of 
God  and  good  soldier  by  luck;  moreover,  brave  as  a 
Polander,  on  every  occasion,  without  discernment, 
and  hiding  the  void  in  his  head  under  the  jargon  of 
the  grande  compagnie.  From  the  age  of  thirty-six 
he  was,  by  compulsion,  of  as  complete  an  indiffer- 
ence to  the  fair  sex  as  the  King,  Charles  X.,  his 
master;  punished,  like  his  master,  for  having,  like 
him,  pleased  too  much  in  his  youth.  During  eight- 
een years  the  idol  of  the  Faubourg  Saint-Germain, 
he  had,  like  all  the  sons  of  families,  led  a  dissipated 
life,  filled  only  with  pleasures.  His  father,  ruined 
by  the  Revolution,  had  recovered  his  position  on  the 
return  of  the  Bourbons,  the  government  of  a  royal 
chateau,  salaries,  pensions;  but  this  factitious  for- 
tune the  old  prince  had  very  soon  devoured,  remain- 
ing the  grand  seigneur  which  he  had  been  before 
the  Restoration,  so  that,  when  the  law  of  indemnity 


166  THE  SECRETS  OF 

arrived,  the  sums  which  he  received  were  absorbed 
by  the  luxury  which  he  displayed  in  his  immense 
hotel,  the  only  property  which  he  recovered,  and 
the  largest  part  of  which  was  occupied  by  his 
daughter-in-law.  The  Prince  de  Cadignan  died 
some  time  before  the  Revolution  of  July,  at  the  age 
of  eighty-seven.  He  had  ruined  his  wife,  and  was 
long  in  delicate  relations  with  the  Due  de  Navar- 
reins,  who  had  married  his  daughter  for  his  first 
wife,  and  to  whom  he  with  difficulty  rendered  his 
accounts.  The  Due  de  Maufrigneuse  had  had  liai- 
sons with  the  Duchesse  d'Uxelles.  About  1814,  at 
the  date  when  Monsieur  de  Maufrigneuse  reached 
his  thirty-sixth  birthday,  the  duchess,  seeing  him 
poor,  but  very  well  received  at  Court,  gave  him  her 
daughter,  who  possessed  about  fifty  or  sixty  thous- 
and francs  of  income,  in  addition  to  that  which  she 
might  expect  to  receive  from  her.  Mademoiselle 
d'Uxelles  thus  became  also  a  duchess,  and  her 
mother  knew  that  she  would  have  in  all  probability 
the  greatest  liberty.  After  having  had  the  un- 
hoped-for happiness  of  being  presented  with  a  son 
and  heir,  the  duke  left  his  wife  entirely  free  in  her 
actions,  and  went  amusing  himself  from  garrison  to 
garrison,  passing  the  winters  in  Paris,  contracting 
debts  which  his  father  always  paid,  professing  the 
most  complete  conjugal  indulgence,  notifying  the 
duchess  a  week  in  advance  of  his  return  to  Paris, 
adored  by  his  regiment,  loved  by  the  Dauphin,  a 
skilful  courtier,  something  of  a  gambler,  moreover 
without  any  affectation;  the  duchess  could  never 


LA  PRINCESSE  DE  CADIGNAN  167 

persuade  him  to  take  an  opera-dancer  for  appearance 
sake  and  through  regard  for  her,  as  she  said  pleas- 
antly. The  duke,  who  had  the  succession  of  the 
office  of  his  father,  knew  how  to  please  the  two 
kings,  Louis  XVIII.  and  Charles  X.,  which  went  to 
prove  that  he  made  a  very  good  use  of  his  nullity; 
but  this  conduct,  this  life,  were  all  covered  with  a 
most  beautiful  varnish,— language,  nobility  of  man- 
ners, appearance,  all  offered  in  him  their  perfec- 
tion; in  short,  the  Liberals  loved  him.  It  was 
impossible  for  him  to  continue  the  Cadignans  who, 
according  to  the  old  prince,  were  well  known  as 
ruining  their  wives,  for  the  duchess  used  up  her 
fortune  herself.  These  details  became  so  public  in 
the  circle  of  the  Court  and  in  the  Faubourg  Saint- 
Germain,  that  during  the  last  five  years  of  the 
Restoration,  any  one  who  would  have  spoken  of 
them  would  have  been  laughed  at,  as  if  he  wished 
to  relate  the  death  of  Turenne  or  that  of  Henry  IV. 
Thus  there  was  not  one  woman  who  spoke  of  this 
charming  duke  without  eulogy, — his  conduct  toward 
his  wife  had  been  perfect,  it  would  be  difficult  for  a 
man  to  show  himself  as  considerate  as  Mauf rigneuse 
had  been  for  the  duchess ;  he  had  left  her  the  free 
disposition  of  her  fortune,  he  had  defended  her  and 
sustained  her  on  every  occasion.  Whether  it  were 
pride,  or  good  nature,  or  chivalrousness,  Monsieur 
de  Maufrigneuse  had  saved  the  duchess  on  more  than 
one  occasion  when  any  other  woman  would  have 
been  lost,  notwithstanding  her  connection,  notwith- 
standing the  credit  of  the  old  Duchesse  d'Uxelles,  of 


168  THE   SECRETS  OF 

the  Due  de  Navarreins,  of  her  father-in-law  and  of 
her  husband's  aunt.  To-day,  the  Prince  de  Cadig- 
nan  passes  for  one  of  the  finest  characters  of  the 
aristocracy.  Perhaps  fidelity  in  need  is  one  of  the 
very  finest  victories  which  the  courtiers  can  win 
over  themselves.  The  Duchesse  d'Uxelles  was 
forty-five  when  she  married  her  daughter  to  the 
Due  de  Maufrigneuse;  she  had  looked  for  a  long 
time  without  jealousy  and  even  with  interest  at  the 
success  of  her  former  friend.  At  the  time  of  her 
marriage  of  her  daughter  and  the  duke,  she  main- 
tained a  conduct  of  great  nobility,  and  one  which 
covered  the  immorality  of  this  combination.  Never- 
theless, the  malice  of  persons  at  Court  found  matter 
for  jesting,  and  pretended  that  this  fine  conduct 
had  not  cost  the  duchess  very  dearly,  though  for 
about  the  last  five  years  she  had  given  herself  up  to 
the  devotion  and  repentance  of  a  woman  who  has 
much  to  be  pardoned. 

During  several  days,  the  princess  showed  herself 
more  and  more  remarkable  for  her  literary  attain- 
ments. She  took  up  with  the  greatest  hardihood 
the  most  arduous  questions,  thanks  to  diurnal  and 
nocturnal  readings  pursued  with  an  intrepidity 
worthy  of  the  highest  eulogiums.  D'Arthez,  stu- 
pefied and  incapable  of  suspecting  that  Diane 
d'Uxelles  repeated  in  the  evening  what  she  had  read 
in  the  morning,  as  do  a  great  many  writers,  held 
her  for  a  superior  woman.  These  conversations 
increased  the  distance  of  Diane  from  her  object,  she 
endeavored  to  place  herself  again  on  the  footing  of 


LA  PRINCESSE   DE   CADIGNAN  169 

confidence  from  which  her  lover  had  prudently- 
retired;  but  it  was  not  very  easy  to  bring  back  to 
this  point  a  man  of  his  temper  who  had  once  been 
frightened  off.  Nevertheless,  after  a  month  of  these 
literary  campaigns  and  fine  Platonic  discourses, 
d'Arthez  became  more  resolute  and  came  everyday 
at  three  o'clock.  He  went  away  at  six,  and  reap- 
peared in  the  evening  at  nine,  to  remain  until  mid- 
night or  one  o'clock  in  the  morning,  with  the 
regularity  of  a  lover  full  of  impatience.  The  prin- 
cess was  always  dressed  with  more  or  less  care  at 
the  hour  when  d'Arthez  presented  himself.  This 
mutual  fidelity,  the  care  which  they  took  of  them- 
selves, everything  in  them,  expressed  the  sentiments 
which  they  did  not  dare  to  avow,  for  the  princess 
divined  marvelously  well  that  this  great  child  was 
as  much  afraid  of  a  contention  as  she  was  desirous 
of  it.  Nevertheless,  d'Arthez  expressed  in  his  con- 
stant, mute  declarations  a  respect  which  pleased  the 
princess  infinitely.  Both  of  them  felt  themselves 
each  day  so  much  more  united  that  nothing  conven- 
tional nor  direct  and  open  would  arrest  them  in  the 
flow  of  their  ideas,  as  when,  between  lovers,  there 
are  on  one  side  formal  demands,  and  on  the  other  a 
defense  sincere  or  coquettish.  Like  all  those  men 
who  are  younger  than  their  age  would  entitle  them 
to  be,  d'Arthez  was  a  prey  to  those  agitating  irres- 
olutions caused  by  the  power  of  desires  and  by  the 
terror  of  displeasing,  a  situation  of  which  a  young 
woman  comprehends  nothing  when  she  shares  it,  but 
to  which  the  princess  had  too  often  given  occasion 


170  THE   SECRETS  OF 

not  to  appreciate  all  its  pleasures.  Thus  Diane 
enjoyed  these  delicious  childishnesses  with  so  much 
the  more  charm  that  she  knew  perfectly  well  how  to 
make  them  cease.  She  resembled  a  great  artist 
pausing  over  the  indecisive  lines  of  a  sketch, 
certain  of  being  able  to  finish  in  an  hour  of  inspira- 
tion the  masterpiece  still  floating  in  the  limbo  of 
creation.  How  many  times,  seeing  d'Arthez  ready 
to  advance,  had  she  not  pleased  herself  by  arresting 
him  by  an  imposing  air !  She  suppressed  the  secret 
storms  of  this  young  heart,  she  stirred  them  up 
again,  pacified  them  by  a  look,  in  giving  her  hand 
to  be  kissed  or  by  insignificant  words  uttered  in  a 
moved  and  tender  voice.  This  management,  coldly 
arranged,  but  divinely  played,  engraved  her  image 
still  deeper  in  the  soul  of  this  spiritual  writer, 
whom  she  was  pleased  to  render  childlike,  confiding, 
simple  and  almost  silly  beside  her;  but  she  had 
also  occasional  returnings  upon  herself,  and  it  was 
then  impossible  for  him  not  to  admire  so  much 
grandeur  mingled  with  so  much  innocence.  This 
play  of  a  great  coquette  attached  her  insensibly 
to  her  slave.  Finally,  Diane  became  impatient  with 
this  amorous  Epictetus,  and,  when  she  thought  she 
had  brought  him  to  the  most  entire  credulity,  she 
gave  herself  as  a  duty  the  task  of  applying  over  his 
eyes  the  very  thickest  bandage. 

One  evening,  Daniel  found  the  princess  pensive, 
an  elbow  on  her  little  table,  her  beautiful  blond 
head  bathed  in  the  light  from  the  lamp;  she  was 
trifling  with  a  letter  which  she  made  dance  on  the 


LA  PRINCESSE   DE  CADIGNAN  171 

table-cloth.  When  d'Arthez  had  seen  this  paper 
sufficiently,  she  finished  by  folding  it  and  putting 
it  in  her  girdle. 

"What  troubles  you?"  said  d'Arthez.  "You 
appear  disquieted." 

"1  have  received  a  letter  from  Monsieur  de  Cad- 
ignan,"  she  replied.  "However  grave  may  be  his 
wrongs  toward  me,  I  reflected,  after  having  read  his 
letter,  that  he  is  exiled,  without  family,  without 
his  son,  whom  he  loves." 

These  words,  pronounced  in  a  voice  full  of  soul, 
revealed  an  angelic  sensibility.  D'Arthez  was 
moved  to  the  last  degree.  The  curiosity  of  the 
lover  became,  so  to  speak,  a  curiosity  almost  psy- 
chological and  literary.  He  wished  to  know  up  to 
what  point  this  woman  was  grand,  for  what  injuries 
her  pardon  was  required,  how  much  these  women 
of  the  world,  accused  of  frivolity,  of  hardness  of 
heart,  of  selfishness,  could  be  angelic.  Remember- 
ing that  he  had  been  already  repulsed  when  he 
wished  to  know  better  this  celestial  heart,  he  him- 
self had  something  like  a  trembling  in  his  voice 
when,  taking  the  transparent  and  slender  hand,  with 
tapering  fingers,  of  the  beautiful  Diane,  he  said  to 
her: 

"Are  we  now  sufficiently  good  friends  for  you  to 
tell  me  what  you  have  suffered  ?  Your  former  griefs 
should  be  of  influence  in  this  revery. " 

"Yes,"  said  she,  whispering  this  syllable  like  the 
very  softest  note  that  had  ever  been  sighed  by  the 
flute  of  Tulou. 


172  THE    SECRETS    OF 

She  fell  back  again  in  her  revery,  and  her  eyes 
veiled  themselves.  Daniel  remained  waiting  full  of 
anxiety,  penetrated  by  the  solemnity  of  this 
moment.  His  poet's  imagination  caused  him  to  see, 
as  it  were,  the  clouds  which  were  dissipated  slowly 
in  discovering  to  him  the  sanctuary  where  he  was 
about  to  see  at  the  feet  of  God  the  blessed  lamb. 

"Well? — "  said  he,  in  a  voice  soft  and  calm. 

Diane  looked  at  the  tender  suitor;  then  she 
lowered  her  eyes  slowly,  displaying  her  eyelashes 
by  a  movement  which  revealed  the  most  noble  mod- 
esty. No  one  but  a  monster  would  have  been  capa- 
ble of  imagining  any  hypocrisy  in  the  graceful 
undulation  by  which  the  malicious  princess  raised 
her  pretty  little  head  to  plunge  once  more  her  glance 
in  the  desiring  eyes  of  this  great  man. 

"Can  I?  Should  I?"  she  said,  with  an  involun- 
tary gesture  of  hesitation,  looking  at  d'Arthez  with 
a  sublime  expression  of  dreamy  tenderness.  "Men 
have  so  little  faith  in  these  things,  they  think  them- 
selves so  little  obliged  to  discretion!" 

"Ah!  if  you  doubt  me,  why  am  I  here?"  cried 
d'Arthez. 

"Ah!  my  friend,"  she  replied,  giving  to  her  ex- 
clamation the  gracefulness  of  an  involuntary 
avowal,  "when  she  gives  herself  for  life,  does  a 
woman  calculate  ?  It  is  not  a  question  of  my  refusal 
— what  can  I  refuse  you? — but  of  the  conception 
which  you  will  have  of  me,  if  I  speak.  I  could 
readily  confide  to  you  the  strange  situation  in  which 
I  am  at  my  age;    but  what  would  you  think  of  a 


LA  PRINCESSE  DE  CADIGNAN  173 

woman  who  discovered  the  secret  wounds  of  mar- 
riage, who  would  betray  the  secret  of  another? 
Turenne  kept  his  word  to  the  thieves;  do  I  not  owe 
to  my  executioners  the  probity  of  Turenne?" 

"Have  you  given  your  promise  to  anyone?" 

"Monsieur  de  Cadignan  did  not  think  it  necessary 
to  ask  of  me  secrecy.  You  wish,  then,  more  than 
my  soul?  Tyrant!  you  wish,  then,  that  I  bury  in 
you  my  probity?"  said  she,  throwing  on  d'Arthez 
a  look  by  which  she  set  a  higher  value  on  this  false 
confidence  than  on  her  person. 

"You  make  of  me  a  man  even  less  than  common, 
if  from  me  you  fear  anything  whatever  evil,"  he 
said,  with  a  bitterness  but  thinly  disguised. 

"Forgive  me,  my  friend,"  she  replied,  taking  his 
hand,  looking  at  it,  taking  it  between  her  own  and 
caressing  it  by  drawing  her  fingers  over  it  with  a 
movement  of  the  greatest  gentleness.  "I  know  all 
that  you  are  worth.  You  have  related  to  me  your 
whole  life;  it  is  noble,  it  is  beautiful,  it  is  sublime, 
it  is  worthy  of  your  name;  perhaps,  in  return,  I 
owe  you  mine?  But  I  am  afraid  at  this  moment  to 
fall  in  your  view  by  recounting  to  you  secrets  which 
are  not  altogether  mine.  Then,  perhaps,  you  will 
not  believe,  you,  a  man  of  solitude  and  of  poetry, 
in  the  horrors  of  the  world.  Ah !  you  do  not  know 
that  in  inventing  your  dramas,  they  are  surpassed 
by  those  which  are  really  acted  in  families  appar- 
ently the  most  united.  You  are  ignorant  of  the 
extent  of  certain  gilded  misfortunes." 

"  I  know  all,"  he  cried. 


174  THE    SECRETS   OF 

"No,"  she  resumed,  "you  know  nothing.  Should 
a  daughter  ever  deliver  up  her  mother?" 

In  hearing  this  word,  d'Arthez  found  himself 
like  a  man  lost  in  a  black  night  on  the  Alps,  and 
who,  at  the  first  light  of  day,  perceives  that  he  is  on 
the  edge  of  a  bottomless  precipice.  He  looked  at 
the  princess  with  a  bewildered  air,  he  had  a  chill 
in  his  back;  Diane  thought  that  this  man  of  genius 
had  a  feeble  spirit,  but  she  saw  a  light  in  his  eyes 
which  reassured  her. 

"Finally,  you  have  become  for  me  almost  a 
judge,"  she  said,  with  a  despairing  air.  "I  can 
speak,  in  virtue  of  that  right  which  everyone  who 
has  been  slandered  has  to  assert  his  innocence.  I 
have  been,  I  am  still — so  much  so  as  anyone  remem- 
bers a  poor  recluse  forced  by  the  world  to  renounce 
the  world ! — accused  of  so  much  lightness  of  conduct, 
of  so  many  evil  things,  that  it  can  be  permitted  to 
me  to  place  myself  in  the  heart  in  which  I  find  an 
asylum  in  such  a  manner  as  not  to  be  driven  from 
it.  I  have  always  seen  in  self-justification  a  strong 
reflection  on  innocence,  and  for  this  reason  have  I 
always  disdained  to  speak.  To  whom,  moreover, 
could  I  address  my  speech?  These  cruel  things  can 
only  be  confided  to  God,  or  to  some  one  who  seems 
to  us  near  to  Him,  a  priest,  or  a  second  self.  Well, 
if  my  secrets  are  not  there,"  she  said,  placing  her 
hand  over  d'Arthez's  heart,  "as  they  are  here — " 
and  the  upper  part  of  her  corsage  yielded  to  the 
pressure  of  her  fingers — "you  will  not  be  the  grand 
d'Arthez,  I  will  have  been  deceived!" 


LA  PRINCESSE   DE  CADIGNAN  1 75 

A  tear  moistened  the  eye  of  d'Arthez,  and  Diane 
mastered  this  tear  by  a  sidewise  glance  which  did 
not  cause  the  slightest  movement  of  eyeball  or  eye- 
lid. It  was  quick  and  neat  as  the  stroke  of  a  cat 
taking  a  mouse.  D'Arthez,  for  the  first  time,  after 
sixty  days  full  of  protocols,  dared  to  take  her  warm 
and  perfumed  hand;  he  carried  it  to  his  lips,  he 
impressed  on  it  a  long  kiss  trailed  from  the  wrist  to 
the  nails  with  so  delicate  a  voluptuousness  that  the 
princess  inclined  her  head,  auguring  very  favora- 
bly indeed  of  literature.  She  thought  that  men  of 
genius  might  love  with  much  more  perfection  than 
do  the  fops,  the  men  of  the  world,  the  diplomats, 
and  even  the  soldiers,  who,  however,  have  only  that 
to  do.  She  was  a  connoisseur,  and  knew  that  the 
amorous  character  signs  itself  in  some  way  in  noth- 
ings. An  instructed  woman  can  read  her  future  in 
a  simple  gesture,  as  Cuvier  could  say,  in  seeing  the 
fragment  of  a  skeleton  of  a  paw:  "This  belonged  to 
an  animal  of  such  and  such  dimensions,  with  or 
without  horns,  carnivorous,  herbivorous,  amphibi- 
ous, etc.,  so  many  thousand  years  old."  Certain 
of  encountering  in  d'Arthez  as  much  imagination  in 
love  as  he  put  in  his  literary  style,  she  judged  it 
necessary  to  make  him  arrive  at  the  very  highest 
degree  of  passion  and  of  faith.  She  withdrew  her 
hand  quickly  with  a  magnificent  movement,  full  of 
emotions.  She  might  have  said:  "Have  done,  you 
will  make  me  die!"  she  would  have  spoken  less 
energetically.  She  remained  for  a  moment  gazing 
at  the   eyes   of   d'Arthez,  expressing   all    at  once 


176  THE  SECRETS  OF 

happiness,  prudishness,  fear,  confidence,  languor, 
a  vague  desire  and  the  shame  of  a  virgin.  She  was 
but  twenty  years  old !  But,  reflect  that  she  had  pre- 
pared for  this  hour  of  comic  mendacity  with  an  un- 
heard-of art  in  her  toilet;  she  was  in  her  fauteuil 
like  a  flower  which  is  about  to  expand  at  the  first 
kiss  of  the  sun.  Deceiving  or  true,  she  intoxicated 
Daniel. 

If  I  may  be  permitted  to  risk  an  individual  opin- 
ion, let  us  admit  that  it  would  be  delicious  to  be 
thus  deceived  for  a  long  time.  Certainly,  Talma, 
before  the  footlights,  has  often  been  more  convinc- 
ing than  nature.  But  was  not  the  Princesse  de 
Cadignan  the  greatest  comedienne  of  her  time? 
Nothing  was  lacking  to  this  woman  but  an  attentive 
audience.  Unfortunately,  in  those  epochs  which 
are  ravaged  by  political  storms,  women  disappear 
like  water-lilies  which  have  need  of  a  pure  sky  and 
the  mildest  zephyrs  to  flower  before  our  delighted 
eyes. 

The  hour  had  come,  Diane  was  about  to  enmesh 
this  distinguished  man  in  the  inextricable  lianas  of 
a  romance  carefully  prepared,  and  which  he  was 
about  to  listen  to  as  a  neophyte  in  the  best  days  of 
the  Christian  faith  would  have  listened  to  the  epis- 
tle of  an  apostle. 

"My  friend,  my  mother,  who  is  still  living  at 
Uxelles,  married  me  at  seventeen  years  of  age,  in 
1 8 14 — you  see  how  old  I  am! — to  Monsieur  de  Mau- 
frigneuse,  not  for  love  of  me,  but  for  love  of  him. 
She  thus  acquitted  herself,  with  the  only  man  whom 


LA  PRINCESSE  DE   CADIGNAN  1 77 

she  had  ever  loved,  for  all  the  happiness  which  she 
had  received  from  him.     Oh !    you    need    not   be 
astonished    at  this  horrible  combination;  it  often 
takes  place.     Very  many  women  are  more  lovers 
than   mothers,  as  the  greater  number  of  them  are 
better  mothers  than  wives.     These  two  sentiments, 
love  and  maternity,  developed  as  they  are  by  our 
customs,  often  come  into  conflict  in  the  hearts  of 
women ;    one   of  them  necessarily  has  to  succumb 
when  they  are  not  equal  in  strength,  a  fact  which 
makes  of  some  exceptional  women  the  glory  of  our 
sex.     A  man  of  your  genius  may  readily  compre- 
hend these  things,  which  astonish  fools,  but  which 
are  none  the  less  true,  and,  I  will  go  still  further, 
which  are  justifiable  by  the  differences  of  character, 
of  temperaments,    of   attachments,    of    situations. 
Myself,  for  example,  at  this  moment,  after  twenty 
years  of  unhappinesses,  of  deceptions,  of  calumnies 
endured,  of  heavy  ennui,  of  hollow  pleasures,  would 
I  not  be  disposed  to  throw  myself  at  the  feet  of  a 
man   who   would  love  me  sincerely   and   forever  ? 
Well,  would  I  not   be   condemned   by   the   world? 
And  yet,  would  not  twenty  years  of  suffering,  would 
they  not  furnish  an  excuse  for  giving  to  a  holy  and 
pure  love  the  dozen  years  which  still  remained  to 
me  in  which  to  be  beautiful  ?     This  will  not  be,  I  am 
not  foolish  enough  to  diminish  my  merits  in  the  eyes 
of  God.     I  have  borne  the  burden  and  heat  of  the 
day  unto  the  evening,  I  will  finish  my  day's  labor 
and  I  shall  have  gained  my  reward — " 
"What  an  angel !"  thought  d'Arthez. 
12 


178  THE   SECRETS  OF 

"In  short,  I  have  never  wished  ill  to  the  Duch- 
esse  d'Uxelles  for  having  better  loved  Monsieur  de 
Maufrigneuse  than  the  poor  Diane  here  present. 
My  mother  had  seen  very  little  of  me,  she  had  for- 
gotten me ;  but  she  had  behaved  so  badly  towards 
me,  as  from  one  woman  to  another,  that  what  is 
evil  conduct  from  one  woman  to  another  becomes 
horrible  from  mother  to  daughter.  Those  mothers 
who  lead  a  life  like  that  of  the  Duchesse  d'Uxelles 
keep  their  daughters  at  a  distance  from  them,  so  that 
I  only  entered  the  world  two  weeks  before  my  mar- 
riage. You  may  judge  of  my  innocence!  1  knew 
nothing,  I  was  incapable  of  suspecting  the  secret  of 
this  alliance.  I  had  a  fine  fortune, — sixty  thousand 
francs  of  income  from  forest  land,  in  Nivernais, 
which  the  Revolution  had  forgotten  to  sell,  or  was 
not  able  to  sell,  and  which  appertained  to  the  fine 
chateau  d'Anzy ;  Monsieur  de  Maufrigneuse  was  rid- 
dled with  debts.  If,  later,  I  learned  what  it  is  to 
have  debts,  I  was  then  too  completely  ignorant  of 
life  to  suspect  it.  The  savings  which  had  been 
effected  on  my  fortune  served  to  regulate  the  affairs 
of  my  husband.  Monsieur  de  Maufrigneuse  was 
thirty-eight  years  of  age  when  I  married  him,  but 
these  years  were  like  those  of  military  campaigns, 
they  should  count  double.  Ah !  he  was  indeed  more 
than  seventy-six.  At  forty,  my  mother  still  retained 
her  pretensions,  and  I  found  myself  between  two 
jealousies.  What  a  life  did  I  lead  during  ten  years ! 
— Ah!  if  one  knew  what  this  poor  little  woman  so 
much  suspected  had  suffered !    To  be  guarded  by  a 


LA  PRINCESSE  DE  CADIGNAN  179 

mother  jealous  of  her  daughter !  God ! — You,  who 
make  dramas,  you  will  never  invent  one  as  black, 
as  cruel,  as  this  one.  Usually,  from  the  little  that 
I  know  of  literature,  a  drama  is  a  sequence  of 
actions,  of  discourse,  of  movements  which  hurry 
themselves  towards  a  catastrophe ;  but  that  of  which 
I  speak  to  you  is  the  most  horrible  catastrophe  in 
action !  It  is  the  avalanche  which  fell  on  you  in  the 
morning,  which  falls  again  in  the  evening,  and 
which  will  fall  again  to-morrow.  I  am  chilled  at 
this  moment  in  which  I  speak  to  you  and  in  which 
I  show  you  the  cavern  without  exit,  cold  and  dark, 
in  which  I  lived.  If  it  is  necessary  to  tell  you 
everything,  the  birth  of  my  poor  child,  who,  more- 
over, is  all  myself, — you  must  have  been  struck 
with  his  resemblance  to  me?  he  has  my  hair,  my 
eyes,  the  shape  of  my  face,  my  mouth,  my  smile, 
my  chin,  my  teeth, — well,  his  birth  was  a  chance 
or  the  result  of  a  convention  between  my  mother 
and  my  husband.  For  a  long  time  after  my  mar- 
riage I  remained  a  young  girl,  all  but  abandoned  the 
next  day,  mother  without  being  wife.  The  duchess 
amused  herself  by  prolonging  my  ignorance,  and, 
for  this  purpose,  a  mother  has  horrible  advantages 
over  her  daughter.  I,  poor  little  thing,  brought  up 
in  a  convent  like  a  rose  mystique,  knowing  nothing 
of  marriage,  developed  very  late,  I  found  myself 
very  happy, — I  took  pleasure  in  the  mutual  under- 
standing and  the  harmony  of  our  family.  In  the 
end  I  was  entirely  diverted  from  thinking  of  my 
husband,   who  scarcely  pleased    me  and  who  did 


l8o  THE   SECRETS  OF 

nothing  to  ingratiate  himself,  during  my  first  joys 
of  maternity, — they  were,  moreover,  so  much  the 
more  keen  that  I  did  not  suspect  that  there  were 
others.  I  had  had  so  constantly  dinned  in  my  ears 
the  respect  that  a  mother  owes  to  herself!  And, 
moreover,  a  young  girl  always  likes  to  'play 
mamma.'  At  the  age  in  which  I  then  was,  a  child 
replaces  the  doll.  I  was  so  proud  of  this  beautiful 
flower,  for  Georges  was  beautiful, — a  marvel !  How 
be  able  to  think  of  the  world  outside  when  one  has 
the  happiness  of  nourishing  and  caring  for  a  little 
angel!  I  adore  children  when  they  are  very  little, 
white  and  pink.  I  saw  nothing  but  my  son,  I  lived 
with  my  son,  I  would  not  let  his  nurse  clothe  him, 
unclothe  him,  change  his  linen.  These  cares,  so 
wearying  for  mothers  who  have  regiments  of  chil- 
dren, were  nothing  but  pleasure  for  me.  But,  after 
three  or  four  years,  as  I  am  not  altogether  stupid, 
notwithstanding  the  care  which  was  taken  to  ban- 
dage my  eyes,  the  light  finally  reached  them.  Do 
you  see  me  undeceived,  four  years  later,  in  1819? 
Les  Deux  Freres  ennemis  is  a  rose-water  tragedy 
compared  with  a  mother  and  a  daughter  placed  as  we 
were,  the  duchess  and  I ;  I  braved  them  then,  her  and 
my  husband,  by  public  coquetries  which  made  the 
world  talk — God  knows  how  much !  You  under- 
stand, my  friend,  that  the  men  with  whom  I  was 
suspected  of  light  conduct  had  for  me  the  value  of  a 
dagger  which  one  makes  use  of  to  stab  his  enemy. 
Absorbed  in  my  vengeance,  I  was  not  conscious 
of  the  wounds  which   I  was  inflicting  on  myself. 


LA  PRINCESSE  DE  CADIGNAN  181 

Innocent  as  a  child,  I  passed  for  a  perverse  woman, 
for  the  most  wicked  woman  in  the  world,  and  I 
knew  nothing  of  it.  The  world  is  very  foolish,  very 
blind,  very  ignorant;  it  only  penetrates  those 
secrets  which  amuse  it,  which  serve  its  wickedness; 
the  greatest  things,  the  most  noble,  it  puts  its  hand 
over  its  eyes  not  to  see  them.  But  it  seems  to  me 
that,  at  that  period,  there  must  have  been  seen  in 
me  glances,  attitudes,  of  innocence  in  revolt,  move- 
ments of  pride  which  would  have  made  fortunes  for 
the  great  painters.  I  should  have  lit  up  the  balls 
by  the  tempests  of  my  anger,  by  the  torrents  of  my 
disdain.  Poetry  lost !  these  sublime  poems  are  only 
written  in  that  indignation  which  seizes  us  at 
twenty!  Later,  one  no  longer  gets  indignant,  one 
is  wearied;  one  is  no  longer  astonished  at  vice,  one 
is  cowardly,  one  is  afraid.  I,  I  went  on,  oh !  I  went 
on  finely.  I  played  the  part  of  the  most  foolish  per- 
sonage in  the  world, — I  had  all  the  costs  of  crime 
without  having  the  benefits.  I  had  so  much  pleas- 
ure in  compromising  myself!  Ah!  I  was  guilty  of 
infantile  malice.  I  went  to  Italy  with  a  young 
scatterbrain  whom  I  deposited  there  when  he  spoke 
to  me  of  love ;  but  when  I  learned  that  he  had  com- 
promised himself  for  me — he  had  committed  a  for- 
gery to  obtain  money — I  hastened  to  save  him.  My 
mother  and  my  husband,  who  knew  all  these  secrets, 
restrained  me  like  a  prodigal  woman.  Oh!  this 
time,  I  went  to  the  king.  Louis  XVIII.,  that  man 
without  a  heart,  was  touched — he  gave  me  a  hun- 
dred thousand  francs  from  his   privy  purse.     The 


182  THE   SECRETS  OF 

Marquis  d'Esgrignon,  this  young  man  whom  you 
have  perhaps  met  in  society,  and  who  finished  by 
making  a  very  rich  marriage,  was  saved  from  the 
abyss  into  which  he  had  plunged  for  me.  This  ad- 
venture, caused  by  my  recklessness,  made  me 
reflect.  I  perceived  that  I  was  the  first  victim  of 
my  own  vengeance.  My  mother,  my  husband,  my 
father-in-law  had  the  world  on  their  side,  they 
seemed  to  be  protecting  my  follies.  My  mother, 
who  knew  me  too  proud,  too  grand,  too  much  a 
d'Uxelles  to  be  guilty  of  vulgar  conduct,  was  then 
frightened  at  the  evil  which  she  had  done.  She 
was  fifty-two  years  of  age ;  she  left  Paris,  she  has 
gone  to  live  at  Uxelles.  She  now  repents  of  her 
wrongs,  she  is  expiating  them  by  the  most  extrava- 
gant devotion  and  by  a  boundless  affection  for  me. 
But,  in  1823,  she  left  me  alone  and  face  to  face  with 
Monsieur  de  Maufrigneuse.  O,  my  friend,  you  other 
men,  you  can  never  know  what  it  is  to  be  a  man  of 
intrigues  grown  old.  What  a  household  is  that  of  a 
man  accustomed  to  the  adoration  of  women  of  the 
world,  who  finds  neither  incense  nor  censer  in  his 
own  house,  when  he  is  dead  to  everything,  and  all 
the  more  jealous  for  that!  I  desired,  when  Mon- 
sieur de  Maufrigneuse  was  left  alone  with  me,  I 
desired  to  be  a  good  wife;  but  I  came  into  contact 
with  all  the  asperity  of  a  bitter  spirit,  with  all  the 
fantasies  of  impotence,  with  all  the  puerilities  of 
silliness,  with  all  the  vanities  of  self-sufficiency,  with 
a  man  who  was,  in  short,  the  most  wearying  elegy  in 
the  world,  and  who  treated  me  like  a  little  girl,  who 


LA  PRINCESSE  DE  CADIGNAN  1 83 

pleased  himself  with  humiliating  my  self-respect  on 
every  occasion,  with  crushing  me  under  the  weight 
of  his  experience,  with  proving  to  me  that  I  was 
ignorant  of  everything.  He  wounded  me  every 
moment.  In  short,  he  did  everything  to  cause  me 
to  hold  him  in  detestation  and  to  give  me  the  right 
to  betray  him ;  but  I  was  the  dupe  of  my  own  heart 
and  of  my  desire  to  do  well  during  three  or  four 
years !  Would  you  know  the  infamous  word  which 
caused  me  to  commit  further  follies  ?  Would  you  ever 
invent  the  most  sublime  slander  in  the  world?  'The 
Duchesse  de  Maufrigneuse  has  returned  to  her  hus- 
band, '  it  was  said.  'Bah !  it  is  mere  depravity ;  it  is  a 
triumph  to  reanimate  the  dead;  she  had  done  every- 
thing but  that,'  answered  my  best  friend,  a  relative 
in  whose  house  I  had  the  happiness  of  meeting  you. " 

"Madame  d'Espard!"  cried  Daniel,  making  a 
gesture  of  horror. 

"Oh!  1  have  pardoned  her,  my  friend.  In  the 
first  place,  the  speech  is  excessively  witty,  and  per- 
haps I  have  myself  uttered  crueler  epigrams  on  poor 
women  who  were  quite  as  pure  as  I  was." 

D'Arthez  kissed  again  the  hand  of  this  saintly 
woman,  who,  after  having  served  up  to  him  a  mother 
cut  to  pieces,  after  having  made  of  the  Prince  de 
Cadignan,  whom  you  know,  an  Othello  of  triple 
watchfulness,  had  hashed  up  her  own  character  and 
accused  herself  of  wrongs,  in  order  to  cover  herself 
in  the  eyes  of  this  ingenuous  writer  with  that  vir- 
ginity which  the  most  stupid  of  women  endeavors 
at  any  price  to  offer  her  lover. 


1 84  THE  SECRETS  OF 

"You  understand,  my  friend,  that  I  re-entered 
society  with  a  great  display  and  in  order  to  there 
make  a  display.  I  there  encountered  new  struggles; 
it  was  necessary  to  conquer  my  independence  and 
to  neutralize  Monsieur  de  Maufrigneuse.  I  accord- 
ingly led  for  other  reasons  a  dissipated  life.  To 
distract  myself,  to  forget  real  life  in  a  fantastic  life, 
I  gave  fetes,  I  played  the  princess,  and  I  made  debts. 
For  myself,  I  forgot  everything  in  the  sleep  of 
fatigue;  I  woke  again  beautiful,  gay,  crazy  for  the 
world;  but,  in  this  melancholy  combat  of  fancy 
against  reality,  I  devoured  my  fortune.  The  revolt 
of  1830  arrived  just  at  the  moment  when  I  encoun- 
tered, at  the  end  of  this  existence  of  the  Thousand 
and  One  Nights,  the  pure  and  holy  love  which — I 
am  frank! — I  desired  to  know.  Admit  it,  was  it  not 
natural  for  a  woman  whose  heart,  suppressed  by  so 
many  causes  and  accidents,  had  re-awakened  at  the 
age  in  which  a  woman  feels  herself  deceived,  and 
at  which  I  saw  around  me  so  many  women  happy 
and  loving?  Ah!  why  was  Michel  Chrestien  so 
respectful  ?  There  was  in  this  still  another  mock- 
ery for  me.  What  would  you  have!  in  falling,  I 
have  lost  everything,  I  had  no  longer  any  illusions 
whatever ;  I  had  tried  everything  excepting  one  fruit 
only  for  which  I  had  no  longer  either  taste  or  teeth. 
In  short,  I  found  myself  disenchanted  in  the  world 
at  the  period  when  it  was  necessary  for  me  to  quit 
the  world.  There  is  in  this  something  providen- 
tial, as  in  those  insensibilities  which  prepare  us 
for  death." — She  made  a  gesture  full  of   religious 


LA  PRINCESSE   DE  CADIGNAN  185 

unction. — "Everything  then  served  me,"  she  re- 
sumed, "the  disasters  of  the  monarchy  and  its  ruin 
helped  me  to  bury  myself.  My  son  consoles  me  for 
very  many  things.  Maternal  love  reimburses  us  for 
all  the  other  sentiments  which  have  been  deceived! 
And  the  world  is  surprised  at  my  retirement,  but  I 
have  here  found  happiness.  Oh !  if  you  could  know 
how  happy  here  is  the  poor  creature  who  is  before 
you!  In  sacrificing  everything  for  my  son,  I  forget 
the  happiness  of  which  I  am  ignorant  and  of  which 
I  shall  always  be  ignorant.  Who  would  be  able  to 
believe  that  life  has  been,  for  the  Princesse  de  Cad- 
ignan,  only  an  evil  marriage-night;  and  all  the  ad- 
ventures that  have  been  imputed  to  her  only  the 
defiance  of  a  young  girl  to  two  frightful  passions? 
No  one.  To-day,  I  have  fear  of  everything.  I 
would  repulse,  doubtless,  a  true  feeling,  some  true 
and  pure  love,  in  remembering  so  many  falsehoods, 
so  many  misfortunes ;  just  as  the  rich,  imposed  upon 
by  cheats  who  feign  misfortune,  repulse  an  honest 
poverty,  disgusted  as  they  are  with  all  benevolence. 
All  that  is  horrible,  is  it  not?  but,  believe  me,  that 
which  I  tell  to  you  is  the  history  of  very  many 
women." 

These  last  words  were  pronounced  with  the  light- 
ness and  pleasantry  of  tone  which  recalled  the  ele- 
gant and  mocking  women  of  the  world.  D'Arthez 
was  stunned.  In  his  eyes,  those  whom  justice  sends 
to  the  galleys,  for  murder,  for  having  stolen  with  ag- 
gravating circumstances,  for  having  made  a  mistake 
of  a  signature  on  a  note,  are  little  saints  compared 


1 86  THE  SECRETS  OF 

with  the  criminals  of  the  great  world.  This 
atrocious  elegy,  forged  in  the  arsenal  of  deceit  and 
tempered  in  the  waters  of  the  Parisian  Styx,  had 
been  pronounced  with  the  inimitable  accent  of 
truth.  The  author  contemplated  for  a  moment  this 
adorable  woman,  sunk  in  the  depths  of  her  fauteuil, 
and  whose  two  hands  hung  over  the  two  arms  of 
her  seat  like  two  dew-drops  on  the  edge  of  a  flower, 
overwhelmed  by  this  revelation,  crushed  in  seeming 
to  have  felt  all  the  sorrows  of  her  life  again  in  re- 
lating them ;  in  short,  an  angel  of  melancholy. 

"And  you  may  judge,"  said  she,  sitting  up  sud- 
denly, lifting  one  of  her  hands  and  darting  a  swift 
glance  from  her  eyes  in  which  twenty  years  of  pre- 
tended chastity  flamed,  "you  may  judge  what 
impression  must  have  made  on  me  the  love  of  your 
friend;  but,  by  an  atrocious  mockery  of  chance, — 
or  of  God,  perhaps, — for  at  that  time,  I  avow  it,  a 
man,  that  is  a  man  worthy  of  me,  would  have  found 
me  feeble,  so  much  was  I  thirsting  for  happiness! 
Well,  he  is  dead,  and  dead  in  saving  the  life  of 
whom? — of  Monsieur  de  Cadignan!  Are  you 
astonished  to  find  me  thoughtful — " 

This  was  the  last  stroke,  and  the  poor  d'Arthez 
no  longer  restrained  himself, — he  fell  on  his  knees, 
he  buried  his  head  in  the  hands  of  the  princess  and 
there  wept ;  he  poured  on  them  those  soft  tears  which 
the  angels  shed, — if  the  angels  weep.  As  Daniel 
had  his  head  thus,  Madame  de  Cadignan  could  allow 
to  play  around  her  lips  a  malicious  smile  of  triumph, 
such  a  smile  as  that  with  which  the  monkeys  might 


LA  PRINCESSE   DE  CADIGNAN  187 

accompany  a  very  superior  trick, — if  the  monkeys 
laugh. 

"Ah!  I  have  him,"  she  thought. 

And  she  had  him  very  much,  in  fact. 

"But  you  are, — "said  he,  raising  his  handsome 
head  and  looking  at  her  lovingly. 

" — Virgin  and  martyr,"  she  completed,  smiling 
at  the  vulgarity  of  this  old  pleasantry,  but  giving 
it  a  charming  meaning  by  this  smile  full  of  cruel 
gayety. 

"If  you  see  me  smiling,  it  is  that  I  think  of 
the  princess  who  knows  the  world  so  well,  of  this 
Duchesse  de  Maufrigneuse  to  whom  they  have  given 
de  Marsay,  and  the  infamous  de  Trailles,  apolitical 
ruffian,  and  that  little  fool  d'Esgrignon,  and  Rastig- 
nac,  Rubempre,  ambassadors,  ministers,  Russian 
generals,  who  knows?  Europe!  They  have  put 
an  evil  meaning  on  this  album  which  I  had  made, 
believing  that  those  who  admired  me  were  my 
friends.  Ah!  it  is  frightful.  I  do  not  understand 
how  I  can  permit  a  man  at  my  feet:  to  scorn  them 
all,  such  should  be  my  religion." 

She  rose,  went  over  to  the  window  with  a  gait 
full  of  magnificent  motifs. 

D'Arthez  remained  on  the  chair  where  he  had 
resumed  his  seat,  not  daring  to  follow  the  princess, 
but  looking  at  her;  he  heard  her  wipe  her  pretty 
nose  without  blowing  it.  What  can  be  said  of  the 
princess  who  blows  her  nose?  Diane  essayed  the 
impossible  in  order  to  make  her  sensibility  believed 
in.      D'Arthez    believed   his    angel    in    tears,    he 


1 88  THE   SECRETS  OF 

hastened  to  her,  took  her  round  the  waist,  pressed 
her  against  his  heart 

"No,  leave  me,"  she  said,  in  a  feeble  and  mur- 
muring voice,  "1  have  too  many  doubts  to  be  worthy 
of  anything.  To  reconcile  me  with  life  is  a  task 
beyond  a  man's  strength," 

"Diane!  I  will  love  you,  I  myself,  for  your 
whole  lost  life." 

"No,  do  not  speak  to  me  thus,"  she  replied.  "In 
this  moment  I  am  ashamed  and  trembling  as  if  I  had 
committed  the  greatest  sins." 

She  had  entirely  returned  to  the  innocence  of  a 
young  girl,  and  showed  herself,  nevertheless,  august, 
great,  noble,  as  much  so  as  a  queen.  It  is  impossi- 
ble to  describe  the  effect  of  this  management,  so 
very  skilful  that  it  attained  to  pure  truth,  on  a  soul 
as  new  and  fresh  as  that  of  d'Arthez.  The  great 
writer  remained  mute  with  admiration,  passive  in 
this  window  embrasure,  waiting  for  a  word,  while 
the  princess  was  waiting  for  a  kiss;  but  she  was  too 
sacred  for  him.  When  she  became  cold,  the  prin- 
cess went  back  to  her  fauteuil,  her  feet  were  frozen. 

"It  will  take  a  long  while,"  she  thought,  looking 
at  Daniel,  her  forehead  high  and  her  head  sublime 
in  virtue. 

"Is  it  a  woman?"  this  profound  observer  of  the 
human  heart  asked  himself.  "How  must  one  act 
with  her?" 

Until  two  o'clock  in  the  morning,  they  occupied 
themselves  in  repeating  to  each  other  those  stupid- 
ities which  women  of  genius,  such  as  the  princess 


LA  PRINCESSE  DE  CADIGNAN  189 

is,  know  how  to  render  adorable.  Diane  pretended 
to  be  too  much  destroyed,  too  old,  too  worn;  d'Ar- 
thez  proved  to  her,  that  of  which  she  was  well  con- 
vinced, that  she  had  the  most  delicate  skin,  the 
most  delicious  to  touch,  the  whitest  to  look  at,  the 
most  perfumed;  she  was  young  and  in  her  flower. 
They  disputed  beauty  by  beauty,  detail  by  detail, 
with  the  "Do  you  think  so? — You  are  foolish! — It 
is  desire! — In  two  weeks,  you  will  see  me  as  1  am. 
— In  fact,  I  am  going  on  towards  forty;  can  so  old  a 
woman  be  loved?"  D'Arthez's  eloquence  was  im- 
petuous and  like  that  of  a  young  scholar  larded 
with  the  most  exaggerated  epithets.  When  the 
princess  heard  this  witty  and  intelligent  writer 
uttering  the  sillinesses  of  an  amorous  sub-lieuten- 
ant, she  listened  with  an  absorbed  air,  very  tender, 
but  laughing  inwardly. 

When  d'Arthez  found  himself  in  the  street,  he 
asked  himself  if  he  might  not  have  been  a  little  less 
respectful.  He  went  over  in  his  memory  those 
strange  confidences  which  naturally  have  been  very 
much  abridged  here;  they  would  have  required  an 
entire  volume  to  be  rendered  in  all  their  mellifluous 
abundance  and  with  all  the  manners  with  which 
they  were  accompanied.  The  retrospective  per- 
spicacity of  this  man,  at  once  so  natural  and  so  pro- 
found, was  deceived  by  the  naturalness  of  this 
romance,  by  its  depth,  by  the  accent  of  the  prin- 
cess. 

"It  is  true,"  he  said  to  himself,  in  his  sleepless- 
ness; "there   are   such  dramas  in  the  world;    the 


19O  THE   SECRETS  OF 

world  covers  such  horrors  under  the  flowers  of  its 
elegance,  under  the  embroidery  of  its  slanders, 
under  the  wit  of  its  recitals.  We  never  invent 
anything  but  the  truth.  Poor  Diane!  Michel  had 
a  presentiment  of  this  enigma;  he  said  that  under 
that  layer  of  ice  there  were  volcanoes!  And  Bian- 
chon,  Rastignac,  were  right, — when  a  man  can  be 
able  to  combine  the  grandeurs  of  the  ideal  and  the 
pleasures  of  desire  in  loving  a  woman  whose  ways 
are  beautiful,  full  of  wit,  of  delicacy,  that  should 
indeed  be  a  happiness  without  a  name." 

And  he  sounded  in  himself  the  depths  of  his  love, 
and  he  found  it  infinite. 

The  next  day,  about  two  o'clock,  Madame  d'Es- 
pard,  who  for  more  than  a  month  had  not  seen  the 
princess,  and  had  not  received  from  her  a  single 
traitorous  word,  came,  drawn  by  an  excessive  curi- 
osity. Nothing  could  have  been  more  pleasant  than 
the  conversation  of  these  two  fine  adders  during  the 
first  half-hour.  Diane  d'Uxelles  avoided  speaking 
of  d'Arthez  just  as  she  would  the  wearing  of  a 
yellow  dress.  The  marchioness  circled  around  this 
question  like  a  Bedouin  around  a  rich  caravan. 
Diane  was  amusing  herself,  the  marchioness  was 
becoming  enraged.  Diane  waited;  she  wished  to 
utilize  her  friend  and  to  make  of  her  a  hunting  dog. 
Of  these  two  women  so  celebrated  in  the  actual 
world,  one  of  them  was  stronger  than  the  other. 
The  princess  stood  a  head  higher  than  the  mar- 
chioness, and  the  marchioness  recognized  inwardly 
this  superiority.     In  this,  perhaps,  lay  the  secret  of 


LA   PRINCESSE   DE   CADIGNAN  191 

this  friendship.  The  most  feeble  waited,  crouching 
in  her  false  attachment,  for  the  hour — so  long 
waited  for  by  all  feeble  things — in  which  to  leap  at 
the  throat  of  the  strong  and  to  imprint  upon  it  the 
mark  of  a  joyous  bite.  Diane  saw  this  clearly. 
The  whole  world  was  the  dupe  of  the  cajoleries  of 
these  two  friends.  At  the  moment  when  the  prin- 
cess perceived  an  interrogation  on  the  lips  of  her 
friend,  she  said  to  her: 

"Well,  my  dear,  I  owe  to  you  a  complete  happi- 
ness, immense,  infinite,  celestial." 

"What  do  you  mean  to  say?" 

"Do  you  remember  what  we  were  meditating  on, 
some  three  months  ago,  in  this  little  garden,  on  the 
bench  in  the  sun,  under  the  jessamine?  Ah!  it  is 
only  people  of  genius  who  know  how  to  love.  I 
would  willingly  apply  to  my  grand  Daniel  d'Arthez 
the  speech  of  the  Due  d'Albe  to  Catherine  de 
Medici:  'The  head  of  one  salmon  is  worth  that  of 
all  these  frogs.'  " 

"I  am  not  surprised  that  I  have  not  seen  you," 
said  Madame  d'Espard. 

"Promise  me,  if  you  see  him,  not  to  say  to  him 
one  word  about  me,  my  angel,"  said  the  princess, 
taking  the  hand  of  the  marchioness.  "I  am  happy, 
oh !  but  happy  beyond  all  expression,  and  you  know 
how,  in  the  world,  a  word,  a  pleasantry,  will  go  a 
great  way.  A  word  kills,  so  well  is  it  known  how 
to  put  venom  in  a  word!  If  you  knew  how,  for  the 
last  week,  I  have  desired  that  you  might  have  a 
similar    passion!      In    fine,    it    is   sweet,    it   is   a 


192  THE  SECRETS  OF 

beautiful  triumph  for  us  women  to  complete  our 
womanly  life,  to  sink  to  rest  in  an  ardent  love,  pure, 
devoted,  complete,  entire,  above  all  when  one  has 
sought  for  it  so  long." 

"Why  do  you  ask  me  to  be  faithful  to  my  best 
friend?"  said  Madame  d'Espard.  "You  believe 
me,  then,  capable  of  playing  you  an  evil  trick?" 

"When  a  woman  possesses  such  a  treasure,  the 
fear  of  losing  it  arises  so  naturally  that  it  makes  one 
doubt  everything.  I  am  absurd;  forgive  me,  my 
dear." 

Some  moments  later  the  marchioness  departed; 
and,  as  she  saw  her  go,  the  princess  said  to  herself: 

"How  she  will  serve  me  up!  if  she  could  but 
tell  everything  of  me!  But  to  spare  her  the 
trouble  of  drawing  Daniel  from  here,  I  will  send  him 
to  her." 

At  three  o'clock,  a  few  minutes  later,  d'Arthez 
came.  In  the  midst  of  an  interesting  discourse,  the 
princess  cut  his  speech  short  and  laid  her  handsome 
hand  on  his  arm. 

"Forgive  me,  my  friend,"  she  said,  interrupting 
him,  "but  I  will  forget  something  which  seems  a 
foolishness,  and  yet  which  is  of  the  utmost  impor- 
tance. You  have  not  set  your  foot  in  the  house  of 
Madame  d'Espard  since  the  day,  a  thousand  times 
happy,  on  which  I  met  you  there ;  go  there,  not  for 
yourself,  not  for  politeness,  but  for  me.  Perhaps 
you  have  made  of  her  an  enemy  for  me,  if  she  has 
by  chance  learned  that,  since  her  dinner,  you  have 
not,   so  to   speak,  left  my  house.      Moreover,   my 


LA   PRINCESSE  DE  CADIGNAN  193 

friend,  I  should  not  like  to  see  you  abandon  your 
relations  in  the  world,  nor  your  occupation  and 
your  works.  I  should  be  again  strangely  slandered. 
What  would  they  not  say?  'I  keep  you  in  leash, 
1  absorb  you,  I  fear  comparisons,  1  wish  to  be  talked 
about  again,  I  take  good  care  to  preserve  my  con- 
quest, well  knowing  that  it  is  the  last!'  Who  could 
guess  that  you  are  my  only  friend  ?  If  you  love  me 
as  much  as  you  say  you  love  me,  you  will  make 
it  believed  in  the  world  that  we  are  purely  and  sim- 
ply brother  and  sister.     Continue." 

D'Arthez  was  always  disciplined  by  the  ineffable 
sweetness  with  which  this  graceful  woman  arranged 
her  robe  so  that  it  might  fall  in  the  most  elegant 
manner.  There  was  I  know  not  what  fineness  and 
delicacy,  in  this  discourse  which  touched  him  to 
tears.  The  princess  came  outside  of  all  the  ignoble 
and  Dourgeois  conditions  of  women  who  disputed 
with  each  other  and  who  quibble  over  coin  after 
coin  on  the  divans;  she  displayed  an  unheard-of 
grandeur ;  she  had  no  need  to  say  it,  this  union  was 
nobly  understood  between  them.  It  was  neither 
yesterday,  nor  to-morrow,  nor  to-day;  it  would  be 
whenever  they  wished  it,  one  and  the  other,  without 
the  interminable  fillets  of  that  which  common 
women  call  "a  sacrifice;"  doubtless,  they  are  aware 
of  all  which  they  are  likely  to  lose  thus,  whilst  this 
fete  is  a  triumph  for  those  women  certain  of  gain- 
ing by  it.  In  this  phrase,  everything  was  vague 
as  a  promise,  soft  as  a  hope,  and,  nevertheless,  cer- 
tain as  a  right.  Let  us  avow  it,  these  sorts  of 
13 


194  THE    SECRETS   OF 

grandeurs  appertain  only  to  those  illustrious  and 
sublime  deceivers,  who  remain  royal  there  were 
other  women  become  subjects.  D'Arthez  could  then 
measure  the  distance  which  exists  between  these 
women  and  the  others.  The  princess  always 
showed  herself  worthy  and  beautiful.  The  secret 
of  this  nobility  is  perhaps  in  the  art  with  which  the 
great  ladies  know  how  to  remove  their  veils;  they 
succeed  in  being,  in  this  situation,  like  antique 
statues;  if  they  preserved  a  rag,  they  would  be 
unchaste.  The  bourgeois  women  always  endeavor 
to  wrap  themselves  up. 

Equipped  with  tenderness,  sustained  by  the  most 
splendid  virtues,  d'Arthez  obeyed  and  went  to  call 
on  Madame  d'Espard,  who  displayed  for  him  her  most 
charming  coquetry.  The  marchioness  carefully 
avoided  saying  a  word  to  d'Arthez  about  the  prin- 
cess; only  she  asked  him  to  come  to  dinner  on  a 
near  date. 

D'Arthez  met  there  a  numerous  company.  The 
marchioness  had  invited  Rastignac,  Blondet,  the 
Marquis  d'Ajuda-Pinto,  Maxime  de  Trailles,  the 
Marquis  d'Esgrignon,  the  two  Vandenesses,  Du 
Tillet,  one  of  the  richest  bankers  of  Paris,  the  Baron 
de  Nucingen,  Nathan,  Lady  Dudley,  two  of  the  most 
perfidious  attaches  of  embassies,  and  the  Chevalier 
d'Espard,  one  of  the  most  profound  personages  of 
this  salon,  the  half  of  the  politics  of  his  sister-in- 
law. 

It  was  laughingly  that  Maxime  de  Trailles  said 
to  d'Arthez: 


LA  PRINCESSE   DE  CADIGNAN  195 

"You  see  a  great  deal  of  the  Princesse  de  Cadig- 
nan?" 

D'Arthez  answered  this  question  only  with  a  dry 
inclination  of  the  head.  Maxime  de  Trailles  was 
a  bravo  of  a  superior  order,  without  faith  or  law, 
capable  of  anything,  ruining  the  women  who  were 
enamored  of  him,  causing  them  to  pawn  their  dia- 
monds, but  covering  this  conduct  with  a  brilliant 
varnish,  with  charming  manners  and  a  wit  that  was 
satanic.  He  inspired  in  everyone  a  fear  and  a  con- 
tempt that  were  equal ;  but,  as  no  one  was  hardy 
enough  to  testify  toward  him  any  other  sentiments 
than  the  most  courteous  ones,  he  could  perceive 
nothing;  or  he  lent  himself  to  the  general  dissimu- 
lation. He  owed  to  the  Comte  de  Marsay  the  last 
degree  of  elevation  to  which  he  could  arrive.  De 
Marsay,  who  knew  Maxime  intimately,  had  judged 
him  capable  of  filling  certain  secret  and  diplomatic 
functions  which  he  gave  him,  and  of  which  he 
acquitted  himself  marvelously.  D'Arthez  had  been 
for  some  time  sufficiently  interested  in  political 
affairs  to  know  this  person  to  the  bottom,  and  he 
alone  perhaps  had  a  sufficiently-elevated  character 
to  express  openly  that  which  everyone  thought  in 
secret. 

"It  ees  toutless  for  her  dat  you  neglegt  la  Jam- 
pre, "  said  the  Baron  de  Nucingen. 

"Ah!  the  princess  is  one  of  the  most  dangerous 
women  in  whose  house  a  man  can  put  his  foot," 
cried  softly  the  Marquis  d'Esgrignon;  "I  owe  to  her 
the  infamy  of  my  marriage." 


196  THE  SECRETS  OF 

"Dangerous?"  said  Madame  d'Espard.  "Do  not 
speak  thus  of  my  best  friend.  I  have  never  known 
nor  seen  anything  in  the  princess  which  did  not  seem 
to  me  to  partake  of  the  most  elevated  sentiment." 

"Let  the  Marquis  speak,"  cried  Rastignac. 
"When  a  man  has  been  thrown  by  a  fine  horse,  he 
finds  him  full  of  faults  and  he  sells  him." 

Piqued  at  this  speech,  the  Marquis  d'Esgrignon 
looked  at  Daniel  d'Arthez  and  said  to  him : 

"Monsieur  is  not,  1  hope,  on  such  terms  with  the 
princess  as  to  prevent  our  speaking  of  her?" 

D'Arthez  kept  silent.  D'Esgrignon,  who  did  not 
lack  wit,  made  in  reply  to  Rastignac  an  apolo- 
getic portrait  of  the  princess,  which  put  the  table 
into  good  humor.  As  this  jesting  was  excessively 
obscure  for  d'Arthez,  he  leaned  over  toward  Madame 
de  Montcornet,  his  neighbor,  and  asked  of  her  the 
meaning  of  these  pleasantries. 

"But,  excepting  yourself  only,  to  judge  by  the 
good  opinion  which  you  have  of  the  princess,  all  the 
guests  have  been,  it  is  said,  in  her  good  graces." 

"I  can  assure  you  that  there  is  nothing  but  what 
is  false  in  that  opinion,"  replied  Daniel. 

"However,  there  is  Monsieur  d'Esgrignon,  a  gen- 
tleman of  Perche,  who  was  completely  ruined  for 
her,  some  twelve  years  ago,  and  who,  for  her,  nearly 
mounted  the  scaffold." 

"1  know  all  about  that  affair,"  said  d'Arthez. 
"Madame  de  Cadignan  saved  Monsieur  d'Esgrignon 
at  the  Court  of  Assizes,  and  we  see  how  he  rewards 
her  to-day!" 


LA  PRINCESSE  DE  CADIGNAN  197 

Madame  de  Montcornet  looked  at  d'Arthez  with 
an  astonishment  and  a  curiosity  that  were  almost 
stupid,  then  she  turned  her  eyes  on  Madame  d'Es- 
pard  in  indicating  him  to  her,  as  if  to  say :  "He  is 
bewitched!" 

During  this  short  conversation,  Madame  de  Cad- 
ignan  had  been  defended  by  Madame  d'Espard, 
whose  protection  resembled  that  of  those  lightning 
conductors  which  attract  the  lightning.  When 
d'Arthez  returned  to  the  general  conversation,  he 
heard  Maxime  de  Trailles  launching  this  speech: 

"In  Diane,  depravation  is  not  an  effect,  it  is  a 
cause;  perhaps  she  owes  to  this  cause  her  exquisite 
naturalness;  she  does  not  seek,  she  invents  nothing; 
she  offers  to  you  the  most  refined  elegances  as  if 
they  were  an  inspiration  of  the  most  naive  love, 
and  it  is  impossible  for  you  not  to  believe  it." 

This  phrase,  which  seemed  to  have  been  prepared 
for  a  man  of  the  capacity  of  d'Arthez,  was  so  strong 
that  it  was  like  a  conclusion.  Every  one  left  the 
princess,  she  seemed  to  be  overwhelmed.  D'Arthez 
looked  at  De  Trailles  and  d'Esgrignon  with  a  mock- 
ing air. 

"The  greatest  fault  of  this  woman  is  to  come  in 
competition  with  men,"  said  he.  "She  dissipates 
like  them  all  the  wealth  outside  the  jointures;  she 
sends  her  lovers  to  the  usurers,  she  devours  dowries, 
she  ruins  orphans,  she  demolishes  old  chateaux,  she 
inspires  and,  perhaps,  also  commits  crimes;  but — " 

Of  the  two  personages  to  whom  d'Arthez  was 
replying,  neither  had  ever  heard  anything  so  strong. 


198  THE    SECRETS  OF 

With  this  but,  the  entire  table  was  struck,  each  one 
remained  with  his  fork  in  the  air,  his  eyes  fixed 
alternately  on  the  courageous  writer  and  on  the 
assassins  of  the  princess,  waiting  for  the  conclusion 
in  a  horrible  silence. 

"But,"  said  d'Arthez,  with  a  mocking  lightness, 
"Madame  la  Princesse  de  Cadignan  has  over  men 
an  advantage, — when  you  have  put  yourself  in  dan- 
ger for  her,  she  saves  you  and  speaks  evil  of  none. 
Why,  among  them  all,  can  there  not  be  found  a 
woman  who  will  amuse  herself  with  the  men,  as  the 
men  amuse  themselves  with  the  women?  Why  is 
it  that  the  fair  sex  does  not  occasionally  take  its 
revenge? — " 


*e>v 


"Genius  is  stronger  than  wit,"  said  Blondet  to 
Nathan. 

This  avalanche  of  epigrams  was  in  fact  like  the 
fire  of  a  battery  of  cannon  opposed  to  a  fusillade  of 
musketry.  Every  one  hastened  to  change  the  con- 
versation. Neither  the  Comte  de  Trailles  nor  the 
Marquis  d'Esgrignon  seemed  disposed  to  quarrel 
with  d'Arthez.  When  the  coffee  was  served, 
Blondet  and  Nathan  came  up  to  the  writer  with  an 
air  of  earnestness  which  no  one  would  dare  to 
imitate,  so  difficult  was  it  to  reconcile  the  admiration 
inspired  by  his  conduct  and  the  fear  of  making  two 
powerful  enemies. 

"It  is  not  to-day  for  the  first  time  that  we  have 
been  convinced  that  your  character  is  equal  in 
grandeur  to  your  talent,"  said  Blondet  to  him. 
"You  have  conducted  yourself,  just  now,  not  like  a 


LA  PRINCESSE   DE  CADIGNAN  199 

man,  but  in  a  god-like  fashion.  Not  to  have  allowed 
yourself  to  have  been  carried  away,  neither  by  your 
heart  nor  by  your  imagination;  not  to  have  taken 
up  the  defense  of  a  loved  woman,  a  fault  which  was 
expected  of  you,  and  which  would  have  given  a  great 
triumph  to  this  world  so  devoured  with  jealousy  of 
literary  celebrities — .  Ah !  permit  me  to  say  to  you, 
this  is  to  touch  the  sublime  of  private  politics." 

"Ah  !  you  are  a  statesman,"  said  Nathan.  "It  re- 
quires as  much  skill,  as  it  is  difficult  to  avenge  a 
woman  without  defending  her." 

"The  princess  is  one  of  the  heroines  of  the 
Legitimiste  party;  is  it  not  a  duty  for  every  man 
with  a  heart  to  protect  her  in  any  case  ?  replied 
d'Arthez,  coldly.  "That  which  she  has  done  for  the 
cause  of  her  masters  would  excuse  the  most  frivolous 
life." 

"He  plays  a  close  game,"  said  Nathan  to  Blondet. 

"Absolutely  as  if  the  princess  were  worth  the 
trouble,"  replied  Rastignac,  who  had  joined  them. 

D'Arthez  went  to  see  the  princess,  who  was 
waiting  for  him,  a  prey  to  the  liveliest  anxiety. 
The  result  of  this  experiment  which  Diane  had 
brought  about  might  be  fatal  to  her.  For  the  first 
time  in  her  life,  this  woman  felt  a  real  suffering  in 
her  heart  and  a  cold  perspiration  under  her  dress. 
She  did  not  know  what  course  to  take  in  case 
d'Arthez  should  believe  the  world,  which  told  the 
truth,  instead  of  believing  her,  she  who  lied:  for 
never  had  so  fine  a  character,  so  complete  a  man,  a 
soul    so    pure,    a   conscience   so    ingenuous,    come 


200  THE    SECRETS   OF 

within  her  acquaintance.  If  she  had  concocted  such 
cruel  falsehoods,  she  had  been  driven  to  it  by  the 
desire  of  knowing  veritable  love.  This  love,  she 
felt  it  dawning  in  her  heart,  she  loved  d'Arthez; 
she  was  condemned  to  deceive  him,  for  she  wished 
to  remain  for  him  all  that  he  thought  the  sublime 
actress  who  had  played  her  comedy  before  him. 
When  she  heard  Daniel's  step  in  the  dining-room, 
she  experienced  a  commotion,  a  thrill  which  agitated 
her  in  the  very  principles  of  her  life.  This  move- 
ment, which  she  had  never  before  experienced  dur- 
ing an  existence  the  most  adventurous  known  for  a 
woman  of  her  rank,  made  her  aware  at  this  moment 
that  she  had  gambled  for  her  happiness.  Her  eyes, 
which  looked  into  space,  embraced  d'Arthez  in  his 
entirety;  she  saw  through  his  flesh,  she  read  in  his 
soul, — suspicion  had  not,  then,  even  touched  him 
with  its  bat's  wing!  The  terrible  movement  of 
this  fear  was  followed  by  its  reaction,  joy  all  but 
suffocated  the  happy  Diane;  for  there  is  no  creature 
which  has  not  more  strength  to  support  trouble  than 
to  resist  extreme  happiness. 

"Daniel,  they  have  slandered  me  and  thou  hast 
avenged  me!"  she  cried,  rising  and  opening  to  him 
her  arms. 

In  the  profound  astonishment  produced  in  him  by 
this  word,  the  roots  of  which  were  invisible  to  him, 
Daniel  permitted  his  head  to  be  taken  between  two 
beautiful  hands,  and  the  princess  kissed  him  in 
saintly  fashion  on  the  forehead. 

"How  did  you  know? — " 


LA  PRINCESSE  DE  CADIGNAN  201 

"Oh!  illustrious  ninny!  seest  thou  not  that  I  love 
thee  foolishly?" 

Since  that  day,  there  has  no  longer  been  any 
question  of  the  Princesse  de  Cadignan  nor  of  d'Ar- 
thez.  The  princess  has  inherited  something  of  a 
fortune  from  her  mother ;  she  passes  her  summers 
at  Geneva,  in  a  villa,  with  the  great  writer,  and 
returns  to  Paris  for  some  months  during  the  winter. 
D'Arthez  only  shows  himself  in  the  Chamber  of 
Deputies.  Finally,  his  publications  have  become 
excessively  rare.  Is  this  a  denouement?  Yes,  for 
the  intelligent;  no,  for  those  who  wish  to  know 
everything. 

Aux  Jardies,  June,  1839. 


SARRASINE 


(203) 


TO  MONSIEUR  CHARLES  DE  BERNARD  DU  GRAIL 


(205) 


SARRASINE 

I  was  plunged  in  one  of  those  profound  reveries  to 
which  everybody  is  liable,  even  a  frivolous  man,  in 
the  midst  of  the  most  tumultuous  festivals.  Mid- 
night had  just  sounded  from  the  clock  of  the  Elysee- 
Bourbon.  Seated  in  the  embrasure  of  a  window 
and  hidden  behind  the  undulating  folds  of  a  curtain 
of  moire,  I  was  able  to  contemplate  at  my  ease  the 
garden  of  the  hotel  in  which  I  was  passing  the  even- 
ing. The  trees,  partially  covered  with  snow,  de- 
tached themselves  faintly  against  the  grayish 
background  formed  by  a  cloudy  sky,  slightly 
whitened  by  the  moon.  Seen  in  the  midst  of  this 
fantastic  atmosphere,  they  bore  a  vague  resem- 
blance to  spectres  partially  enveloped  in  their 
shrouds,  a  gigantic  image  of  the  famous  Dance  of 
Death.  Then,  turning  toward  the  other  side,  I 
could  admire  the  dance  of  the  living!  a  splendid 
salon,  with  walls  of  silver  and  of  gold,  with  spark- 
ling candelabra,  brilliant  with  tapers.  There, 
crowded  together,  agitated  and  fluttered  the  most 
beautiful  women  in  Paris,  the  richest,  the  highest- 
titled,  splendid,  pompous,  blazing  with  diamonds! 
with  flowers  on  their  heads,  on  their  breasts,  in 

(207) 


208  SARRASINE 

their  hair,  scattered  on  their  dresses,  or  in  garlands 
at  their  feet.  There  were  light  shudderings,  volup- 
tuous steps  which  made  the  laces,  the  blonds,  the 
gauze  and  the  silk  swirl  around  their  delicate  flanks. 
Here  and  there  sparkled  brilliant  glances,  eclipsing 
the  lights,  the  fire  of  the  diamonds,  and  which  lent 
a  new  animation  to  hearts  already  too  much  on  fire. 
There  might  be  surprised  also  little  attitudes  of  the 
head  significant  for  the  lovers,  and  negative  atti- 
tudes for  the  husbands.  The  sudden  outbursts  of 
the  voices  of  the  players,  at  each  unforeseen  stroke, 
the  clinking  of  gold,  mingled  with  the  music,  with 
the  murmur  of  the  conversations ;  to  complete  the 
transport  of  this  multitude — inebriated  by  all  that 
the  world  can  offer  of  seductions — a  vapor  of  per- 
fume and  a  general  intoxication  acted  upon  all  these 
wandering  imaginations.  Thus,  on  my  right,  the 
sombre  and  silent  image  of  death;  on  my  left,  the 
decent  bacchanalians  of  life:  here,  nature  cold,  dull, 
in  mourning;  there,  men  in  enjoyment.  I  myself, 
on  the  border  of  these  two  pictures  so  incongruous, 
which,  a  thousand  times  repeated  in  various  man- 
ners, render  Paris  the  most  amusing  city  in  the 
world  and  the  most  philosophical,  I  made  for  myself 
a  sort  of  moral  medley,  half  pleasant,  half  funereal. 
With  the  left  foot  I  beat  time  to  the  music,  and  I 
seemed  to  have  the  other  in  a  coffin.  My  leg  was  in 
fact  chilled  by  one  of  those  draughts  of  air  which 
freeze  one-half  of  your  body  whilst  the  other  half 
feels  the  moist  heat  of  the  salons,  an  accident  fre- 
quent enough  at  balls. 


SARRASINE  209 

"It  is  not  very  long  that  Monsieur  de  Lanty  has 
owned  this  hotel  ?" 

"Oh!  yes.  It  is  nearly  ten  years  since  the  Mare- 
chal  de  Carigliano  sold  it  to  him — " 

"Ah!" 

"These  people  must  have  an  immense  fortune?" 

"I  should  say  so." 

"What  a  fete!     It  is  of  an  insolent  luxury." 

"Do  you  think  them  as  rich  as  Monsieur  de  Nu- 
cingen  or  Monsieur  de  Gondreville?" 

"But  you  do  not  then  know? — " 

I  put  out  my  head  and  recognized  the  two  inter- 
locutors as  belonging  to  that  inquisitive  class  who, 
in  Paris,  occupy  themselves  exclusively  with  the 
Whys  ?  The  Hows  ?  Where  did  it  come  from  ?  Who 
are  they  ?  What  is  there  ?  What  has  she  done  ? 
They  were  talking  in  a  low  tone  of  voice,  and  went 
away  to  converse  more  at  their  ease  on  some  soli- 
tary sofa.  Never  had  a  richer  mine  been  opened  to 
the  searchers  of  mysteries.  No  one  knew  from 
what  country  came  the  family  Lanty,  nor  from  what 
commerce,  from  what  spoliation,  from  what  piracy, 
or  from  what  inheritance  proceeded  a  fortune  esti- 
mated at  several  millions.  All  the  members  of  this 
family  spoke  Italian,  French,  Spanish,  English  and 
German  with  such  perfection  as  to  make  it  seem 
probable  that  they  had  lived  for  a  long  time  in  these 
different  countries.  Were  they  Bohemians?  Were 
they  filibusters? 

"If  they  were  the  devil!"  said  the  young  politi- 
cians, "they  know  how  to  receive  marvelously  well. " 
14 


2IO  SARRASINE 

"Had  the  Comte  de  Lanty  plundered  some  Cas- 
bah,  I  would  marry  his  daughter  all  the  same !"  cried 
a  philosopher. 

Who  would  not  have  married  Marianina,  a  young 
girl  of  sixteen,  whose  beauty  realized  the  fabulous 
conception  of  the  Oriental  poets!  Like  the  daugh- 
ter of  the  Sultan  in  the  tale  of  The  Wonderful 
Lamp,  she  should  have  been  kept  veiled.  Her  sing- 
ing made  to  pale  their  incomplete  talents  the 
Malibrans,  the  Sontags,  the  Fodors,  in  whom 
some  dominant  quality  has  always  impaired  the 
perfection  of  the  ensemble;  whilst  Marianina  knew 
how  to  unite  in  the  same  degree  the  purity  of  sound, 
the  feeling, the  justness  of  the  movement  and  of  the 
intonation,  the  soul  and  the  science,  the  correctness 
and  the  sentiment.  This  girl  was  the  type  of  that 
secret  poetry,  common  bond  of  all  the  arts,  and  which 
always  flies  from  those  who  seek  it.  Gentle  and 
modest,  learned  and  spirituelle,  nothing  could  eclipse 
Marianina  unless  it  were  her  mother. 

Have  you  ever  encountered  one  of  those  women 
whose  overpowering  beauty  defies  the  attacks  of  age, 
and  who  seem,  at  thirty-six,  more  desirable  than 
they  could  have  been  fifteen  years  earlier  ?  Their 
countenance  is  a  passionate  soul,  it  sparkles;  each 
feature  is  illuminated  with  intelligence;  every 
detail  possesses  a  particular  brilliancy,  especially 
in  the  light.  Their  seductive  eyes  attract,  refuse, 
speak  or  keep  silent;  their  gait  is  innocently  know- 
ing; their  voice  displays  the  melodious  richness  of 
tones,  the  most  coquettishly  soft  and  tender.    Their 


SARRASINE  211 

praises,  by  comparison,  flatter  the  self-love  of  those 
most  hard  to  please.  A  movement  of  their  eye- 
brows, the  least  glance  of  the  eye,  their  lip,  which 
grows  stern,  all  impress  a  sort  of  terror  on  those 
whose  life  and  whose  happiness  depends  on  them. 
Inexperienced  in  love  and  docile  to  persuasion,  a 
young  girl  may  allow  herself  to  be  seduced;  but  for 
these  women,  a  man  should  know  how,  like  Monsieur 
de  Jaucourt,  not  to  cry  out  when,  hiding  himself  in  the 
back  of  a  wardrobe,  the  femme  de  chambre  crushes 
two  of  his  fingers  in  the  crack  of  a  door.  To  love 
these  puissant  sirens,  is  it  not  to  gamble  with  one's 
life?  And  this  is  why  perhaps  we  love  them  so 
passionately!     Such  was  the  Comtesse  de  Lanty. 

Filippo,  the  brother  of  Marianina,  partook,  like 
his  sister,  of  the  marvelous  beauty  of  the  countess. 
To  say  all  in  one  word,  this  young  man  was  a  liv- 
ing image  of  the  Antinous,  with  a  form  more  slen- 
der. But  how  well  these  thin  and  delicate  propor- 
tions accord  with  youth  when  an  olive  skin,  strong 
eyebrows  and  the  fire  of  a  velvety  eye,  promise  for 
the  future  male  passions,  generous  thoughts !  If 
Filippo  lived  in  the  hearts  of  all  the  young  girls  as 
a  type,  he  lived  equally  in  the  regard  of  all  the 
mothers  as  the  best  parti  in  France. 

The  beauty,  the  fortune,  the  wit,  the  graces  of 
these  two  children  came  altogether  from  their 
mother.  The  Comte  de  Lanty  was  short,  ugly,  and 
pock-marked;  sombre  as  a  Spaniard,  wearisome  as 
a  banker.  He  passed  moreover  for  a  profound  poli- 
tician, perhaps  because  he  laughed  but  seldom,  and 


212  SARRASINE 

was   always   quoting   Monsieur   de  Metternich    or 
Wellington. 

This  mysterious  family  had  all  the  attraction  of  a 
poem  by  Lord  Byron,  the  difficulties  of  which  were 
translated  in  a  different  manner  by  each  person  of 
the  fashionable  world, — a  chant  obscure  and  sublime 
from  strophe  to  strophe.  The  reserve  which  Mon- 
sieur and  Madame  de  Lanty  preserved  respecting 
their  origin,  their  past  existence  and  their  relation 
with  the  four  corners  of  the  globe,  was  not  for  any 
great  length  of  time  a  subject  of  astonishment  in 
Paris.  In  no  country  perhaps  is  the  axiom  of  Ves- 
pasian better  comprehended.  There,  the  ecus,  even 
though  spotted  with  blood  or  with  mud,  betray 
nothing  and  represent  everything.  Provided  that 
the  upper  classes  of  society  know  the  figure  of  your 
fortune,  you  are  classed  among  the  sums  which  are 
equal  to  yours,  and  no  one  asks  to  see  your  parch- 
ments, because  everybody  knows  how  little  they 
cost.  In  a  city  in  which  social  problems  are  solved 
by  algebraic  equations,  the  adventurers  have  excel- 
lent chances  in  their  favor.  Even  supposing  that 
this  family  had  been  Bohemian  in  its  origin,  it  was 
so  rich,  so  attractive,  that  the  upper  circles  of 
society  could  well  afford  to  pardon  it  its  little  mys- 
teries. But,  unfortunately,  the  enigmatic  history 
of  the  house  of  Lanty  offered  a  perpetual  interest  of 
curiosity,  similar  enough  to  that  of  the  romances 
of  Anne  Radcliffe. 

The  observers,  those  persons  who  make  it  a  point 
to  know  in  what  shop  you  buy  your  candelabra,  or 


SARRASINE  21 3 

who  ask  you  the  amount  of  your  rent  when  your 
apartment  pleases  them,  had  remarked,  from  time 
to  time,  in  the  midst  of  the  fetes,  the  concerts,  the 
balls,  the  routs  given  by  the  countess,  the  appear- 
ance of  a  strange  personage.  This  was  a  man. 
The  first  time  that  he  showed  himself  in  the  hotel, 
was  during  a  concert,  where  he  seemed  to  have 
been  attracted  to  the  salon  by  the  enchanting  voice 
of  Marianina. 

"Within  the  last  minute  I  have  felt  cold,"  said  a 
lady  standing  near  the  door,  to  her  neighbor. 

The  unknown,  who  was  near  this  lady,  went 
away. 

"Here  is  something  curious!  I  am  too  warm," 
said  this  woman  after  the  departure  of  the  stranger. 
"And  you  will  accuse  me,  perhaps,  of  being  crazy, 
but  I  cannot  avoid  the  impression  that  my  neigh- 
bor, that  gentleman  in  black,  who  had  just  gone 
away,  made  me  cold." 

Very  soon,  the  exaggeration  natural  to  people 
in  high  society  originated  and  accumulated  the 
most  amusing  ideas,  the  oddest  expressions,  the 
most  ridiculous  stories  concerning  this  mysterious 
personage.  Without  being  precisely  a  vampire,  a 
ghoul,  an  artificial  man,  a  species  of  Faust  or  of 
Robin  des  Bois,  he  partook,  according  to  these 
friends  of  the  fantastic,  of  all  these  anthropomorphic 
natures.  There  were  to  be  met  with  here  and 
there  certain  Germans  who  took  for  truths  these 
ingenious  mockeries  of  the  Parisian  slander. 
The  stranger  was  simply  an  ancient  man.     Several 


214  SARRASINE 

of  these  young  men,  who  were  in  the  habit  of 
deciding  the  future  of  Europe  every  morning  in  a 
few  elegant  phrases,  determined  to  see  in  the  un- 
known some  great  criminal,  the  possessor  of  im- 
mense riches.  The  romancers  related  the  life  of 
this  old  man,  and  gave  you  truly  remarkable  de- 
tails of  the  atrocities  committed  by  him  during  the 
time  he  was  in  the  service  of  the  prince  of  Mysore. 
The  bankers,  a  more  positive  class,  set  up  a  plausi- 
ble fable. 

"Bah!"  said  they,  shrugging  their  great  shoul- 
ders with  a  movement  of  pity,  "this  little  old  man 
is  a  tete  genoise !" 

"Monsieur,  if  it  is  not  an  indiscretion,  would 
you  have  the  kindness  to  explain  to  me  what  you 
mean  by  a  Genoese  head?" 

"Monsieur,  it  is  a  man  upon  the  duration  of  whose 
life  repose  enormous  sums,  and  on  his  good  health 
depend  doubtless  the  revenues  of  this  family.  I  re- 
member to  have  heard  at  Madame  d'Espard's  a 
magnetizer  proving,  by  very  specious  historical 
considerations,  that  this  old  man,  kept  under  glass, 
was  the  famous  Balsamo,  called  Cagliostro.  Accord- 
ing to  this  modern  alchemist,  the  Sicilian  adven- 
turer had  escaped  death,  and  amused  himself  by 
making  gold  for  his  grandchildren.  And,  finally, 
the  bailiff  of  Ferette  pretended  to  have  recognized 
in  this  singular  personage  the  Comte  de  Saint- 
Germain." 

These  sillinesses,  uttered  in  the  light  tone,  with 
the  mocking  air  which,  in  our  days,  characterizes 


SARRASINE  21 5 

a  society  without  any  faiths,  gave  rise  to  vague  sus- 
picions concerning  the  house  of  Lanty.  Finally,  by  a 
singular  combination  of  circumstances,  the  members 
of  this  family  justified  the  conjectures  of  the  world 
by  a  line  of  conduct  sufficiently  mysterious  toward 
this  old  man,  whose  life  was  in  some  sort  concealed 
from  all  investigation. 

Should  this  personage  cross  the  threshold  of  the 
apartment  which  he  was  reputed  to  occupy  in  the 
Hotel  Lanty,  his  appearance  always  caused  a  great 
sensation  in  the  family.  It  could  have  been  said 
to  be  an  event  of  the  highest  importance.  Filippo, 
Marianina,  Madame  de  Lanty  and  an  old  domestic 
alone  had  the  privilege  of  aiding  the  unknown  to 
walk,  to  rise,  to  seat  himself.  Each  one  watched 
solicitously  his  slightest  movements.  It  seemed  as 
though  this  was  an  enchanted  person  on  whom  de- 
pended the  happiness,  the  life  or  the  fortunes  of 
all.  Was  it  fear  or  affection  ?  The  society  people 
could  not  discover  any  indication  which  would  aid 
them  to  solve  this  problem.  Hidden  for  entire 
months  in  the  depths  of  an  unknown  sanctuary, 
this  familiar  genius  issued  suddenly  and,  as  it  were, 
furtively,  without  being  expected,  and  appeared 
in  the  midst  of  the  salons  like  those  fairies  of  other 
times  who  descended  from  their  flying  dragons  to 
come  and  trouble  those  solemnities  to  which  they 
had  not  been  bidden.  The  most  skilful  observers 
could  alone  at  these  periods  divine  the  inquietude  of 
the  masters  of  the  household,  who  knew  how  to 
conceal  their   feeling  with  a  singular  skill.      But, 


2l6  SARRASINE 

sometimes,  even  while  dancing  in  a  quadrille,  the 
too  candid  Marianina  cast  a  glance  of  terror  on  the 
old  man,  whom  she  followed  through  the  multitude. 
Or  else  Filippo  hastened,  slipping  through  the  crowd, 
to  join  him,    and  remained  near  him,   tender  and 
attentive,  as  if  the  contact  of  men  or  the  least  breath 
would  destroy  this  curious  creature.     The  countess 
endeavored  to  approach  him,  without  appearing  to 
have    the    intention   of    rejoining    him;    then,    in 
assuming  a  manner  and  a  countenance  as  expres- 
sive of  servility  as  of  tenderness,  of  submission  as 
of  despotism,  she  said  two  or  three  words  to  which 
the  old  man  nearly  always  deferred :  he  disappeared, 
led  away,  or,  to  speak  more  clearly,  carried  away, 
by  her.     If  Madame  de  Lanty  were  not  there,  the 
count  employed  a  thousand  stratagems  to  reach  him ; 
but  he  had  the  appearance  of  making  himself  heard 
with  difficulty  and  treated  him  like  a  spoiled  child 
whose  mother  satisfies  its  caprices  or  dreads  its  un- 
ruliness.     Some  indiscreet  persons  have  ventured  to 
question  rashly  the  Comte  de  Lanty,  but  this  cold  and 
reserved  man  had  never  appeared  to  be  able  to  com- 
prehend  the    interrogation   of  these  curious  ones. 
Thus,  after  a  great  many  attempts,  which  the  cir- 
cumspection of  all  the  members  of  this  family  had 
rendered  fruitless,  no  one  sought  any  longer  to  dis- 
cover a  secret  so  well  guarded.     The  spies  of  good 
society,  the  open-mouthed  and  the  politic  ones,  had 
finished,  weary  of  the  contest,  by  no  longer  occupy- 
ing themselves  with  this  mystery. 

But,  in  this  moment,  there  were  perhaps  in  the 


SARRASINE  217 

midst  of  these  resplendent  salons  certain  philoso- 
phers who,  even  while  taking  an  ice,  a  sorbet,  or  in 
setting  down  on  a  console  their  empty  punch  glass, 
said  to  each  other : 

"I  should  not  be  surprised  to  learn  that  these  peo- 
ple are  sharpers.  This  old  fellow,  who  hides  him- 
self and  only  appears  at  the  equinoxes  or  at  the 
solstices,  has  to  me  quite  the  air  of  an  assassin — " 

"Or  of  a  bankrupt—" 

"It  is  very  nearly  the  same  thing.  To  kill  a 
man's  fortune  is  sometimes  worse  than  to  kill  him 
himself." 

"Monsieur,  I  have  bet  twenty  louis;  there  are 
forty  coming  to  me." 

"Faith,  Monsieur,  there  are  only  thirty  left  on 
the  table." 

"Well,  there,  you  see  how  society  is  mixed  here! 
No  one  can  play." 

"That  is  true. — But  here  are  now  six  months  that 
we  have  not  seen  the  Spirit.  Do  you  believe  that 
it  is  a  living  being?" 

"Eh!  eh!  at  the  very  most — " 

These  last  words  were  uttered,  near  me,  by  un- 
known persons  who  went  away  at  the  moment  in 
which  I  resumed,  in  the  last  train  of  thought,  my 
reflections  mingled  with  white  and  black,  with  life 
and  death.  My  fantastic  imagination,  as  well  as 
my  eyes,  contemplated  alternately  the  festivity 
which  had  now  reached  its  highest  degree  of  splen- 
dor and  the  sombre  picture  of  the  gardens.  I  do  not 
know  how  long  1  had  been  meditating  on  these  two 


218  SARRASINE 

sides  of  the  human  medal ;  but  suddenly  the  smoth- 
ered laughter  of  a  young  woman  recalled  me  to  my- 
self. I  remained  stupefied  at  the  appearance  of  the 
figure  which  presented  itself  before  my  eyes.  By 
one  of  the  rarest  caprices  of  nature,  the  half  fune- 
real thought  which  had  been  traversing  my  brain 
had  issued  forth,  it  was  there  before  me,  personified, 
living;  it  had  sprung,  like  Minerva,  from  the  head  of 
Jupiter,  grand  and  strong;  it  had  at  once  a  hundred 
years  of  age  and  twenty-two,  it  was  living  and  dead. 
Escaped  from  his  chamber,  like  a  maniac  from  his 
cell,  the  little  old  man  had  doubtless  slipped  skil- 
fully behind  a  hedge  of  persons  listening  to  the 
voice  of  Marianina,  who  was  finishing  the  cavatina 
of  Tancred.  He  seemed  to  have  issued  from  un- 
derground, pushed  up  by  some  theatrical  mechan- 
ism. Motionless  and  sombre,  he  remained  a 
moment  looking  at  this  festival,  the  murmur  of 
which  had  perhaps  reached  his  ears.  His  preoccu- 
pation, almost  somnambulic,  was  so  concentrated  on 
certain  things,  that  he  found  himself  in  the  midst 
of  the  world  without  seeing  the  world.  He  had 
surged  up  without  ceremony  close  to  one  of  the 
most  ravishing  women  in  Paris,  a  dancer  elegant 
and  youthful,  with  delicate  forms,  one  of  those  fig- 
ures as  fresh  as  that  of  a  child,  white  and  pink,  and 
so  frail,  so  transparent,  that  it  would  seem  as 
though  a  man's  glance  could  penetrate  them,  as  the 
rays  of  the  sun  traverse  pure  ice.  They  were 
there,  before  me,  both  of  them  together,  united  and 
so  close  together  that  the  stranger  touched  the  dress 


SARRASINE  219 

of  gauze  and  the  garlands  of  flowers  and  the  lightly- 
crimped  hair  and  the  floating  girdle. 

1  had  brought  this  young  woman  to  Madame  de 
Lanty's  ball.  As  this  was  the  first  time  that  she 
had  been  in  this  house,  I  forgave  her  her  smothered 
laugh;  but  1  made  to  her  quickly  some  imperious 
sign,  I  do  not  know  what,  which  filled  her  with  con- 
fusion and  inspired  her  with  respect  for  her  neigh- 
bor. She  seated  herself  near  me.  The  old  man  did 
not  wish  to  quit  this  delicious  creature,  to  whom  he 
attached  himself  wilfully  with  that  obstinacy,  mute 
and  without  apparent  cause,  which  is  characteristic 
of  the  extremely  aged,  and  which  causes  them  to 
resemble  children.  In  order  to  seat  himself  near  the 
young  lady,  he  was  obliged  to  take  a  folding-chair. 
His  least  movements  were  marked  by  that  coid 
heaviness,  that  stupid  indecision  which  character- 
izes the  gestures  of  a  paralytic.  He  sat  down 
slowly  on  his  seat,  with  circumspection,  and  in 
mumbling  some  unintelligible  words.  His  broken 
voice  resembled  the  noise  which  a  stone  makes  in 
falling  into  a  well.  The  young  woman  pressed  my 
hand  closely,  as  if  she  sought  to  save  herself  from  a 
precipice,  and  shuddered  when  this  man,  whom  she 
was  looking  at,  turned  upon  her  two  eyes  without 
warmth,  two  glaucous  eyes  which  could  only  be 
compared  to  tarnished  mother-of-pearl. 

"I  am  afraid,"  she  said  to  me,  leaning  toward  my 
ear. 

"You  can  speak,"  I  replied;  "he  hears  with  great 
difficulty." 


220  SARRASINE 

"You  know  him,  then?" 

"Yes." 

At  this  she  took  courage  sufficiently  to  examine 
for  a  moment  this  creature  without  a  name  in 
human  language,  form  without  substance,  being 
without  life,  or  life  without  action.  She  was  under 
the  influence  of  that  fearful  curiosity  which  impels 
women  to  procure  for  themselves  dangerous 
emotions,  to  see  tigers  chained,  to  look  at  boa- 
constrictors,  while  frightening  themselves  at  being 
separated  from  them  only  by  feeble  barriers.  Al- 
though the  little  old  man  was  stoop-shouldered,  like  a 
laboring  man,  it  could  readily  be  seen  that  his  figure 
must  have  been  of  ordinary  height.  His  excessive 
meagreness,  the  delicacy  of  his  limbs,  proved  that 
his  proportions  had  always  remained  slender.  He 
wore  small-clothes  of  black  silk  which  floated 
around  his  fleshless  thighs  in  folds,  like  a  furled 
sail.  An  anatomist  could  have  promptly  recognized 
the  symptoms  of  a  frightful  phthisis  on  seeing  the 
slight  legs  which  served  to  sustain  this  strange 
body.  You  would  have  said  they  were  two  bones 
crossed  on  a  tomb.  A  sentiment  of  profound  horror 
for  mankind  seized  the  heart  when  a  fatal  attention 
had  revealed  to  you  the  signs  impressed  by  decrepi- 
tude on  this  fragile  machine.  The  unknown  wore 
a  white  waistcoat,  embroidered  with  gold,  in  the 
ancient  style,  and  his  linen  was  of  a  dazzling  white- 
ness. A  jabot  of  English  lace  sufficiently  yellowed, 
the  richness  of  which  would  have  been  envied  by  a 
queen,  formed  yellow  ruches  on  his  chest;  but,  on 


SARRASINE  221 

him,  this  lace  was  rather  a  rag  than  an  adornment 
In  the  midst  of  this  jabot  a  diamond  of  an  incalcula- 
ble value  glittered,  like  the  sun.  This  superannu- 
ated luxury,  this  material  richness  without  taste, 
served  to  set  off  in  still  stronger  fashion  the  coun- 
tenance of  this  strange  being.  The  frame  was 
worthy  of  the  portrait.  This  dark  visage  was 
angular  and  hollowed  in  every  sense, — the  chin 
was  hollow,  the  temples  were  hollow,  the  eyes  were 
lost  in  yellowish  orbits.  The  maxillary  bones, 
rendered  prominent  by  an  indescribable  meagre- 
ness,  designed  cavities  in  the  middle  of  each  cheek. 
These  gibbosities,  more  or  less  revealed  by  the 
lights,  produced  curious  shadows  and  reflections 
which  completed  the  want  of  resemblance  between 
this  visage  and  the  human  countenance.  Moreover, 
the  years  had  so  closely  fastened  to  the  bone  the 
yellowish  and  fine  skin  of  this  visage  that  they  had 
there  described  everywhere  a  multitude  of  wrinkles, 
either  circular,  like  the  ripples  of  water  caused  by  a 
stone  thrown  by  a  child,  or  star-shaped,  like  the 
fracture  of  a  window-pane,  but  always  deep  and  as 
close  together  as  the  edges  of  the  leaves  of  a  book. 
There  are  old  men  who  present  to  us  more  hideous 
portraits;  but  that  which  contributed  the  most  to 
give  the  appearance  of  an  artificial  creation  to  the 
spectre  risen  before  us  was  the  red  and  the  white 
with  which  he  shone.  The  eyebrows  of  his  mask 
received  from  the  lights  a  lustre  which  revealed  a 
painting  very  well  executed.  Happily  for  the  sight 
saddened  by  so  many  ruins,  his  cadaverous  cranium 


222  SARRASINE 

was  concealed  under  a  blond  peruque,  the  innumer- 
able curls  of  which  betrayed  an  extraordinary  pre- 
tension. For  the  rest,  the  feminine  coquetry  of 
this  phantasmagoric  personage  was  emphatically 
enough  announced  by  the  gold  rings  which  hung  in 
his  ears,  by  the  rings  of  which  the  wonderful  stones 
glittered  on  his  ossified  fingers,  and  by  a  watch 
chain  which  scintillated  like  the  brilliants  of  a 
necklace  at  the  throat  of  a  woman.  Finally,  this 
species  of  Japanese  idol  preserved  on  his  bluish 
lips  a  fixed  arid  arrested  smile,  a  smile  implacable 
and  bantering,  like  that  of  a  death's-head.  Silent, 
motionless  as  a  statue,  it  exhaled  the  musky  odor 
of  those  old  gowns  which  the  heirs  of  a  duchess  ex- 
hume from  her  drawers  during  an  inventory.  If  the 
old  man  turned  his  eyes  toward  the  assembly,  it 
seemed  as  though  the  movement  of  those  globes, 
incapable  of  reflecting  a  light,  were  accomplished 
by  an  imperceptible  artifice;  and,  when  the  eyes 
arrested  themselves,  he  who  examined  them  ended 
by  doubting  if  they  had  moved.  To  see,  near  to 
this  human  debris,  a  young  woman  whose  neck, 
whose  arms  and  whose  chest  were  naked  and  white; 
whose  lines  were  full  and  redolent  of  beauty, 
whose  hair  rising  admirably  from  an  alabaster  fore- 
head inspired  love,  whose  eyes  did  not  receive  but 
gave  out  light,  who  was  soft,  fresh,  and  whose 
vaporous  curls,  whose  balmy  breath,  seemed  too 
heavy,  too  hard,  too  powerful  for  this  shadow, 
for  this  man  in  dust, — ah!  it  was  certainly  death 
and    life,  my  revery,  an    imaginary   arabesque,  a 


SARRASINE  223 

chimera  half  hideous,  divinely  female  from  the 
waist  up. 

"There  are,  however,  such  marriages,  which  take 
place  with  sufficient  frequency  in  the  world,"  I 
said  to  myself. 

"He  smells  of  the  cemetery!"  cried  the  terrified 
young  woman,  who  pressed  against  me  as  if 
to  assure  herself  of  my  protection,  and  whose 
tumultuous  movements  revealed  to  me  the  ex- 
tremity of  her  fear. — "It  is  a  horrible  vision,"  she 
resumed. 

"I  cannot  stay  here  any  longer.  If  I  look  at  it 
again  I  shall  believe  that  death  itself  has  come  to 
seek  me.     But  does  it  live?" 

She  put  out  her  hand  and  touched  the  phenome- 
non with  that  hardihood  of  which  women  are  capa- 
ble in  the  violence  of  their  desires ;  but  a  cold  sweat 
broke  out  on  her  skin,  for,  as  soon  as  she  touched 
the  old  man,  she  heard  a  cry  like  that  of  a  rattle. 
This  sharp  voice,  if  it  were  a  voice,  issued  from  a 
throat  almost  dried  up.  Then  to  this  clamor  suc- 
ceeded quickly  a  little  cough  like  a  child's,  convul- 
sive and  of  a  peculiar  sonorousness.  At  this  noise, 
Marianina,  Filippo,  and  Madame  de  Lanty  turned 
their  looks  upon  us,  and  their  glances  were  like 
lightning.  The  young  woman  could  have  wished 
herself  at  the  bottom  of  the  Seine.  She  took  my 
arm,  drew  me  off  toward  a  boudoir.  Men  and 
women,  everybody,  made  way  for  us.  When  we 
reached  the  end  of  the  reception  apartments,  we  en- 
tered a  little  semicircular   cabinet.     My  companion 


224  SARRASINE 

threw  herself  on  a  divan,  palpitating  with  terror, 
without  knowing  where  she  was. 

"Madame,  you  are  distracted,"  I  said  to  her. 

"But,"  she  answered,  after  a  moment  of  silence 
during  which  I  admired  her,  "is  it  my  fault?  Why 
does  Madame  de  Lanty  permit  ghosts  to  wander 
about  in  her  hotel  ?" 

"Come,"  1  replied,  "you  imitate  the  silly  ones. 
You  take  a  little  old  man  for  a  spectre." 

"Keep  silent,"  she  replied,  with  that  mocking  and 
imposing  air  which  all  women  know  so  well  how  to 
assume  when  they  are  determined  to  be  right. — 
"What  a  pretty  boudoir!"  she  cried,  looking  around 
her.  "Blue  satin  always  makes  an  admirable 
effect  for  hangings.  How  fresh  it  is !  Ah !  the  beau- 
tiful picture!"  she  added,  rising  and  going  to  take 
her  stand  before  a  magnificently  framed  canvas. 

We  remained  for  a  moment  contemplating  this 
marvel,  which  seemed  due  to  some  supernatural 
brush.  The  picture  represented  Adonis  reclining 
on  a  lion  skin.  The  lamp  suspended  in  the  middle 
of  the  boudoir,  and  contained  in  an  alabaster  vase, 
illuminated  this  canvas  with  a  soft  light  which  per- 
mitted us  to  see  all  the  beauties  of  the  painting. 

"Can  so  perfect  a  being  exist?"  she  asked  me, 
after  having  examined,  not  without  a  soft  smile  of 
contentment,  the  exquisite  grace  of  the  contours, 
the  attitude,  the  color,  the  hair,  everything  in  fact. 

"He  is  too  beautiful  for  a  man,"  she  added,  after 
such  a  scrutiny  as  she  would  have  given  a  rival. 
Oh !  how  I  then  experienced  the  attacks  of  that 


SARRASINE  225 

jealousy  in  which  a  poet  had  vainly  endeavored  to 
make  me  believe!  the  jealousy  of  engravings,  of 
paintings,  of  statues,  in  which  the  artists  exagger- 
ate human  beauty,  carrying  out  the  doctrine  which 
leads  them  to  idealize  everything. 

"It  is  a  portrait,"  I  replied  to  her.  "It  is  a  pro- 
duct of  the  talent  of  Vien.  But  this  great  painter 
never  saw  the  original,  and  your  admiration  will  be 
less  lively,  perhaps,  when  you  learn  that  this  aca- 
demical study  was  painted  from  a  statue  of  a 
woman." 

"But  who  is  it?" 

I  hesitated. 

"I  wish  to  know,"  she  added,  quickly. 

"I  think,"  I  said  to  her,  "that  this  Adonis  rep- 
resents a — a — a  relative  of  Madame  de  Lanty. " 

I  had  the  pain  of  seeing  her  absorbed  in  the  con- 
templation of  this  figure.  She  seated  herself  in 
silence.  I  placed  myself  beside  her  and  took  her 
hand  without  her  perceiving  it!  Forgotten  for  a 
portrait!  At  this  moment,  the  slight  sound  of  the 
step  of  a  woman  whose  dress  rustled  was  heard  in 
the  silence.  We  saw  the  young  Marianina  enter, 
still  more  brilliant  by  her  expression  of  innocence 
than  by  her  grace  and  by  her  fresh  toilet;  she  was 
walking  slowly,  and  leading  with  a  maternal 
care,  with  a  filial  solicitude,  the  clothed  spectre 
which  had  caused  us  to  fly  from  the  music-room; 
she  conducted  him,  watching  with  a  species  of 
inquietude,  the  slow  march  of  his  debilitated  feet. 
They  both  arrived  with  sufficient  difficulty  at  a  door 
15 


226  SARRASINE 

hidden  in  the  tapestry.  There  Marianina  knocked 
softly.  There  immediately  appeared,  as  if  by 
magic,  a  tall,  dry  man,  a  species  of  familiar  genius. 
Before  confiding  the  old  man  to  this  mysterious 
guardian,  the  beautiful  child  kissed  respectfully  the 
walking  skeleton,  and  her  chaste  caress  was  not 
exempt  from  that  graceful  cajolery  the  secret  of 
which  belongs  to  some  privileged  women. 

"Addio,  addio!"  she  said,  with  the  most  charm- 
ing inflections  of  her  young,  voice. 

She  even  added  to  the  last  syllable  a  roulade 
admirably  executed,  but  in  a  low  voice,  and  as  if  to 
paint  by  a  poetic  expression  the  effusion  of  her 
heart.  The  old  man,  suddenly  struck  by  some 
souvenir,  remained  on  the  threshold  of  this  secret 
retreat.  We  then  heard,  owing  to  a  profound 
silence,  the  heavy  sigh  which  issued  from  his  chest; 
he  drew  off  the  richest  of  the  rings  with  which  his 
skeleton  fingers  were  loaded  and  placed  it  in  Mari- 
anina's  breast.  The  young  girl  commenced  to 
laugh,  took  the  ring,  slipped  it  over  one  of  her  gloved 
fingers,  and  turned  swiftly  toward  the  salon,  from 
which  might  be  heard  at  this  moment  the  preludes 
of  a  contradance.     She  perceived  us. 

"Ah!  you  were  there!"  she  said,  blushing. 

After  having  looked  at  us  as  if  to  interrogate  us, 
she  hastened  to  her  partner  with  the  careless  petu- 
lance of  her  age. 

"What  does  it  all  mean?"  asked  of  me  my  young 
companion.  "Is  it  her  husband?  I  think  I  am 
dreaming.     Where  am  I?" 


SARRASINE  227 

"You,"  I  replied,  "you,  Madame,  who  are  exalted, 
and  who,  comprehending  so  well  the  most  imper- 
ceptible emotions,  know  how  to  cultivate  in  a  man's 
heartthemost  delicate  sentiments,  without  blighting 
them,  without  bruising  them  from  the  very  first  day ; 
you  who  have  pity  for  all  the  pains  of  the  heart,  and 
who,  to  the  wit  of  a  Parisienne,  join  a  passionate 
soul  worthy  of  Italy  or  of  Spain — " 

She  saw  clearly  that  my  language  was  that  of 
bitter  irony;  and,  without  appearing  to  pay  any 
attention  to  it,  she  interrupted  me: 

"Oh!  you  make  me  according  to  your  own  ideas. 
What  a  singular  tyranny!  You  would  so  have  me 
that  I  should  not  be  myself." 

"Oh!  I  wish  nothing,"  I  cried,  terrified  at  her 
severe  attitude.  "At  least,  is  it  true  that  you  like 
to  hear  the  recital  of  the  histories  of  those  vivid 
passions  awakened  in  our  hearts  by  the  ravishing 
women  of  the  South?" 

"Yes.     Well,  then?" 

"Well,  then,  I  will  come  to  see  you  to-morrow 
evening  about  nine  o'clock,  and  I  will  reveal  to  you 
this  mystery." 

"No,"  she  replied,  with  a  mutinous  air,  "I  wish 
to  learn  it  immediately." 

"You  have  not  yet  given  me  the  right  to  obey 
you  when  you  say:  'I  wish.'  " 

"At  present,"  she  replied,  with  a  coquetry  that 
would  drive  a  man  to  despair,  "1  have  the  greatest 
desire  to  know  this  secret.  To-morrow  I  will  not 
listen  to  you,  perhaps — " 


228  SARRASINE 

She  smiled,  and  we  separated,  she  even  more 
proud,  more  forbidding,  and  I  even  more  ridiculous 
at  this  moment  than  ever.  She  had  the  audacity  to 
waltz  with  a  young  aide-de-camp,  and  I  remained 
alternately  vexed,  pouting,  admiring,  loving  and 
jealous. 

"Till  to-morrow,"  she  said  to  me,  near  two  o'clock 
in  the  morning,  when  she  left  the  ball. 

"I  will  not  go,"  thought  I,  "and  I  abandon  thee. 
Thou  art  more  capricious,  more  fantastic  a  thousand 
times,  perhaps — than  my  imagination." 

The  next  evening,  we  were  before  a  good  fire,  in 
an  elegant  little  salon,  seated  both  of  us,  she  on  a 
low  sofa,  I  on  a  cushion,  almost  at  her  feet,  and  my 
eye  under  hers.  The  street  was  silent.  The  lamp 
shed  a  soft  light.  It  was  one  of  those  evenings 
delightful  to  the  soul,  one  of  those  moments  which 
are  never  forgotten,  one  of  those  hours  passed  in 
peace  and  in  desire, — and  the  charm  of  which  is 
later  always  a  subject  of  regret,  even  when  we  are 
more  happy.  What  can  efface  the  vivid  impression 
of  the  first  solicitations  of  love? 

"Go  on,"  she  said,  "I  am  listening." 

"But  I  dare  not  commence.  The  adventure  has 
some  passages  dangerous  for  the  narrator.  If  I  be- 
come enthusiastic,  you  will  silence  me." 

"Speak." 

"1  obey." 

"Ernest- Jean  Sarrasine  was  the  only  son  of  a  pro- 
curator of  Franche-Comte,"  I  resumed,  after  a  pause. 
"His   father  had  acquired  with  sufficient  honesty 


SARRASINE  229 

from  six  to  eight  thousand  francs  of  income,  a  prac- 
titioner's fortune,  which,  formerly,  in  the  provinces, 
was  considered  colossal.  The  old  Maitre  Sarrasine, 
having  but  one  child,  resolved  to  neglect  nothing 
for  his  education :  he  hoped  to  make  of  him  a  mag- 
istrate, and  to  live  long  enough  to  see,  in  his  old 
days,  the  grandson  of  Mathieu  Sarrasine,  laborer  in 
the  country  of  Saint-Die,  seated  on  his  fleur-de-lys 
and  sleeping  through  the  hearing  for  the  greater 
glory  of  justice;  but  Heaven  did  not  reserve  this  joy 
for  the  procurator.  The  young  Sarrasine,  confided 
at  an  early  age  to  the  Jesuits,  gave  proofs  of  an 
uncommon  turbulence.  He  had  the  childhood  of  a 
man  of  talent.  He  would  not  study  save  as  he 
chose,  was  often  in  revolt,  and  remained  sometimes 
for  hours  plunged  into  confused  meditation,  occupied 
sometimes  in  contemplating  his  comrades  at  their 
play,  sometimes  in  representing  to  himself  the  heroes 
of  Homer.  Then,  when  he  did  choose  to  divert 
himself,  he  brought  into  his  plays  an  extraordinary 
ardor.  When  a  quarrel  occurred  between  himself 
and  one  of  his  comrades,  it  was  but  seldom  that  the 
combat  ended  without  bloodshed.  If  he  were  the 
weaker  of  the  two,  he  bit.  Alternately  acting  or 
passive,  without  aptitude  or  being  too  intelligent,  his 
singular  character  caused  him  to  be  feared  by  his 
masters  as  much  as  by  his  comrades.  Instead  of 
acquiring  the  elements  of  the  Greek  language,  he 
made  a  drawing  of  the  reverend  father  who 
explained  to  them  a  passage  of  Thucydides;  he 
sketched  the  master  of  mathematics,  the  prefect,  the 


230  SARRASINE 

valets,  the  corrector,  and  covered  all  the  walls  with 
shapeless  outlines.  Instead  of  chanting  the  praises 
of  the  Lord  in  the  church,  he  amused  himself,  dur- 
ing the  service,  with  carving  a  bench;  or,  when 
he  had  stolen  a  piece  of  wood,  he  sculptured  some 
figure  of  a  saint.  If  he  had  no  wood,  nor  stone,  nor 
crayon,  he  gave  form  to  his  ideas  with  soft  bread. 
Whether  he  was  copying  the  figures  in  the  paintings 
which  ornamented  the  choir,  or  whether  he  was 
originating,  he  left  always  behind  him  gross 
sketches,  the  licentious  character  of  which  filled 
with  horror  the  younger  fathers;  and  the  slanderers 
pretended  that  the  old  Jesuits  smiled  over  them. 
Finally,  if  the  chronicle  of  the  college  may  be 
believed,  he  was  expelled  for  having,  while  waiting 
his  turn  at  the  confessional  on  a  Good  Friday, 
carved  a  large  billet  into  the  shape  of  Christ.  The 
impiety  of  this  statue  was  too  great  not  to  draw 
down  chastisement  on  the  artist.  Had  he  not  even 
had  the  audacity  to  place  on  top  of  the  tabernacle 
this  sufficiently  cynical  figure!  Sarrasine  came  to 
seek  at  Paris  a  refuge  against  the  menaces  of  the 
paternal  malediction.  Having  one  of  those  strong 
wills  which  know  no  obstacles,  he  followed  the 
commands  of  his  genius  and  entered  the  atelier  of 
Bouchardon.  He  worked  throughout  the  day,  and 
in  the  evening  begged  for  his  livelihood.  Bouchar- 
don, surprised  at  the  progress  and  at  the  intelligence 
of  the  young  artist,  soon  became  aware  of  the  pov- 
erty in  which  his  pupil  was  living;  he  aided  him, 
took  him  into  his  affections  and  treated  him  as  his 


SARRASINE  23 1 

own  child.  Then,  when  the  genius  of  Sarrasine 
had  revealed  itself  by  one  of  those  works  in  which 
the  dawning  talent  struggles  against  the  efferves- 
cence of  youth,  the  generous  Bouchardon  endeavored 
to  restore  him  to  the  good  graces  of  the  old  procur- 
ator. Before  the  authority  of  the  celebrated  sculp- 
tor the  parental  anger  was  appeased.  All  Besan^on 
congratulated  itself  on  having  given  birth  to  a  future 
great  man.  In  the  first  moments  of  ecstasy  which 
his  flattered  vanity  brought  him,  the  avaricious 
practitioner  enabled  his  son  to  again  appear  with 
advantage  before  the  world.  The  long  and  labor- 
ious studies  required  by  the  art  of  sculpture  kept 
for  a  long  time  in  subjection  the  impetuous  charac- 
ter and  the  wild  genius  of  Sarrasine.  Bouchardon, 
foreseeing  the  violence  with  which  the  passions 
would  be  unchained  in  this  young  soul,  perhaps  as 
vigorously  constituted  as  that  of  Michael  Angelo, 
smothered  the  energy  under  continual  labors.  He 
succeeded  in  maintaining  within  reasonable  bounds 
the  extraordinary  impetuosity  of  Sarrasine,  in  for- 
bidding him  to  work,  in  proposing  some  distraction 
when  he  saw  him  carried  away  by  the  fury  of  an 
idea  or  in  confiding  important  works  to  him  at  the 
moment  when  he  was  about  to  deliver  himself  up  to 
dissipation.  But,  upon  this  passionate  soul,  gentle- 
ness was  always  the  most  powerful  of  arms,  and  the 
master  only  assumed  a  great  empire  over  his  pupil 
when  he  excited  his  gratitude  by  a  paternal  kindness. 
"At  the  age  of  twenty-two,  Sarrasine  was  forci- 
bly withdrawn  from  the  salutary  influence  which 


232  SARRASINE 

Bouchardon  exercised  over  his  manners  and  his 
habits.  He  carried  off  the  fruits  of  his  genius  in 
gaining  the  prize  in  sculpture  founded  by  the  Mar- 
quis de  Marigny,  the  brother  of  Madame  de  Pompa- 
dour, who  did  so  much  for  the  arts.  Diderot 
extolled  as  a  masterpiece  the  statue  of  Bouchardon's 
pupil.  It  was  not  without  deep  grief  that  the  sculp- 
tor to  the  king  saw  depart  for  Italy  a  young  man  in 
whom,  through  principle,  he  had  inculcated  pro- 
found ignorance  of  the  things  of  life.  Sarrasine 
had  been  for  six  years  of  the  household  of  Bouchar- 
don. Fanatical  in  his  art,  as  Canova  was  later,  he 
rose  at  day-break,  entered  his  atelier,  from  which 
he  did  not  issue  till  night,  and  lived  only  with  his 
Muse.  If  he  went  to  the  Comedie-Francaise,  he 
was  dragged  there  by  his  master.  He  felt  himself 
so  awkward  in  the  house  of  Madame  Geoffrin  and  in 
the  great  world  in  which  Bouchardon  endeavored  to 
introduce  him,  that  he  preferred  to  remain  alone, 
and  repudiated  the  pleasures  of  this  licentious  epoch. 
He  had  no  other  mistresses  than  sculpture  and 
Clotilde,  one  of  the  celebrities  of  the  opera.  But 
this  intrigue  did  not  last  long.  Sarrasine  was  suffi- 
ciently ugly,  always  badly  dressed,  and  naturally 
so  free,  so  little  regular  in  his  private  life  that  the 
illustrious  nymph,  fearing  some  catastrophe,  very 
soon  returned  the  sculptor  to  the  love  of  art.  Sophie 
Arnould  said  a  good  thing  on  this  subject  that  I  have 
forgotten.  She  was  astonished,  I  believe,  that  her 
comrade  had  been  able  to  drag  him  away  from  the 
statues.      Sarrasine   departed    for    Italy    in    1758. 


SARRASINE  233 

During  the  journey,  his  ardent  imagination  took  fire 
under  a  glowing  sky  and  at  the  sight  of  the  marvel- 
ous monuments  with  which  the  country  of  the  arts 
is  sown.  He  admired  the  statues,  the  frescoes,  the 
paintings;  and,  full  of  emulation,  he  came  to  Rome 
a  prey  to  the  desire  to  inscribe  his  name  between 
those  of  Michael  Angelo  and  of  Bouchardon;  thus, 
during  the  first  days,  he  divided  his  time  between 
his  work  in  the  atelier  and  the  examination  of  the 
works  of  art  which  abound  in  Rome.  He  had 
already  passed  two  weeks  in  that  state  of  ecstasy 
which  seizes  all  young  imaginations  at  the  aspect 
of  the  queen  of  ruins,  when,  one  evening,  he  entered 
the  theatre  of  Argentina,  before  which  a  great 
crowd  was  gathered.  He  inquired  the  cause  of  this 
multitude  and  everybody  answered  him  with  two 
names : 

"  'Zambinella!     Jomelli!' 

"He  entered  and  took  a  seat  in  the  parterre, 
crowded  by  two  abbati  notably  fat ;  but  he  was  for- 
tunately placed  near  the  stage.  The  curtain  went 
up.  For  the  first  time  in  his  life  he  heard  that 
music  of  which  Monsieur  Jean- Jacques  Rousseau 
had  so  eloquently  praised  the  delights  to  him,  during 
a  soiree  of  the  Baron  d'Holbach.  The  senses  of  the 
young  sculptor  were,  so  to  speak,  lubricated  by  the 
accents  of  the  sublime  harmony  of  Jomelli.  The 
languorous  originalities  of  these  Italian  voices,  skil- 
fully commingled,  plunged  him  into  a  ravishing 
ecstasy.  He  remained  mute,  motionless,  not  even 
feeling   himself  crowded  by  the  two  priests.     His 


234  SARRASINE 

soul  passed  into  his  ears  and  into  his  eyes.  He 
thought  he  listened  by  every  one  of  his  pores.  All 
at  once,  an  outbreak  of  applause  sufficient  to  bring 
down  the  house  welcomed  the  appearance  on  the 
scene  of  the  prima  donna.  She  advanced  coquet- 
tishly  to  the  front  of  the  scene  and  saluted  the 
public  with  an  infinite  grace.  The  lights,  the  en- 
thusiasm of  a  whole  audience,  the  illusion  of  the 
scene,  the  attraction  of  her  costume,  which  at  that 
period  was  sufficiently  distinguished,  all  conspired 
in  favor  of  this  woman.  Sarrasine  uttered  cries  of 
pleasure.  At  that  moment  he  was  able  to  admire 
that  ideal  beauty  the  perfections  of  which  he  had, 
up  to  that  moment,  sought  in  vain  throughout 
nature,  compelled  to  require  from  a  model,  often 
ignoble,  the  roundness  of  a  perfect  leg;  from  such 
another,  the  contours  of  a  breast;  from  this  one,  her 
white  shoulders;  reduced,  in  fact,  to  take  the  neck  of 
a  young  girl,  and  the  hands  of  this  woman,  and  the 
polished  knees  of  that  infant,  without  ever  finding 
under  the  cold  sky  of  Paris  the  rich  and  suave  crea- 
tions of  antique  Greece.  These,  La  Zambinella 
displayed  to  him  all  united  in  one  figure,  truly 
living  and  delicate,  those  exquisite  proportions  of 
feminine  nature  so  ardently  desired,  of  which  a 
sculptor  is  at  once  the  judge  the  most  severe  and 
the  most  enthusiastic.  There  was  an  expressive 
mouth,  loving  eyes,  skin  of  a  dazzling  whiteness. 
And  join  to  these  details,  which  would  have  ravished 
a  painter,  all  the  marvels  of  that  Venus  revered 
and   rendered   by  the  chisel  of   the  Greek.      The 


SARRASINE  235 

artist  was  never  weary  of  admiring  the  inimitable 
grace  with  which  the  arms  were  joined  to  the 
chest,  the  bewitching  roundness  of  the  neck,  the 
harmonious  lines  described  by  the  eyebrows,  by 
the  nose;  then  the  perfect  oval  of  the  visage,  the 
purity  of  its  living  contour,  and  the  effect  of  the 
heavy  eyelashes,  curled  upward,  which  terminated 
the  heavy  and  voluptuous  eyelids.  It  was  more 
than  a  woman,  it  was  a  chef-d'oeuvre.  There  were 
to  be  found  in  this  unhoped-for  creation,  love  to 
ravish  all  men,  and  beauty  worthy  to  satisfy  a 
critic.  Sarrasine  devoured  with  his  eyes  the  statue 
of  Pygmalion,  for  him  descended  from  its  pedestal. 
When  La  Zambinella  sang,  it  was  a  delirium.  The 
artist  grew  cold;  then  he  was  conscious  of  a  fire 
which  sparkled  suddenly  in  the  depths  of  his  in- 
most being,  of  that  which  we  call  the  heart  for 
want  of  a  word!  He  did  not  applaud,  he  said  noth- 
ing; he  experienced  a  sensation  of  madness,  a  spe- 
cies of  frenzy  which  only  agitates  us  at  that  age  in 
which  desire  has,  I  know  not  what,  of  terrible  and  of 
infernal.  Sarrasine  longed  to  spring  upon  the  stage 
and  to  take  possession  of  this  woman.  His  strength, 
increased  a  hundred-fold  by  a  moral  depression 
impossible  to  explain,  since  these  phenomena  take 
place  in  a  sphere  inaccessible  to  human  observation, 
had  a  tendency  to  project  him  forward  with  an  un- 
happy violence.  To  see  him,  you  would  have  taken 
him  for  a  cold  and  stupid  man.  Glory,  science, 
future,  existence,  crowns,  everything  crumbled. 
"  'To  be  loved  by  her,  or  to  die!'     Such  was  the 


236  SARRASINE 

judgment  which  Sarrasine  pronounced  upon  him- 
self. 

"He  was  so  completely  intoxicated  that  he  saw 
no  longer  either  the  theatre,  or  the  spectators,  or 
the  actors;  he  heard  no  longer  the  music.  Still 
more,  no  distance  existed  between  him  and  La 
Zambinella;  he  possessed  her,  his  eyes,  fastened  on 
her,  took  her  for  his  own.  A  power  almost  dia- 
bolical permitted  him  to  feel  the  breath  of  this 
voice,  to  respire  the  balmy  powder  with  which  her 
hair  was  impregnated,  to  see  the  details  of  this 
countenance,  to  count  upon  it  the  blue  veins  which 
marked  the  satin  skin.  And  finally  this  voice, 
active,  fresh  and  of  a  silvery  tone,  delicate  as  a 
thread  to  which  the  least  breath  of  air  gives  a  form, 
which  it  rolls  and  unrolls,  develops  and  disperses, 
this  voice  attacked  his  soul  so  vividly,  that  he  uttered 
more  than  once  involuntary  cries  torn  from  him  by 
the  convulsive  delights  too  rarely  given  by  human 
passion.  Presently  he  was  obliged  to  leave  the 
theatre.  His  trembling  legs  almost  refused  to  sus- 
tain him.  He  was  overwhelmed,  weak  as  a  nervous 
man  who  had  delivered  himself  to  some  fright- 
ful anger.  He  had  experienced  so  much  pleasure, 
or  perhaps  he  had  suffered  so  much,  that  his  life 
had  flowed  away  from  him  like  the  water  of  a  vase 
overturned  by  a  shock.  He  felt  within  him  a  void, 
a  swooning  similar  to  those  debilities  which  are  the 
despair  of  convalescents  recovering  from  a  grave 
malady.  A  prey  to  an  inexplicable  sadness,  he 
went  and  seated  himself  on  the  steps  of  a  church. 


SARRASINE  237 

There,  his  back  against  a  column,  he  lost  himself  in 
a  meditation  confused  as  a  dream.  Passion  had 
overwhelmed  him.  On  his  return  to  his  lodging, 
he  fell  into  one  of  those  paroxysms  of  activity  which 
reveal  to  us  the  presence  of  entirely  new  principles 
in  our  existence.  A  prey  to  this  first  fever  of  love 
which  is  connected  as  closely  with  pleasure  as  with 
sorrow;  he  wished  to  deceive  his  impatience  and 
his  delirium  by  designing  La  Zambinella  from  mem- 
ory. It  was  a  sort  of  material  meditation.  On 
this  sheet  of  paper,  La  Zambinella  was  seen  in  that 
attitude,  apparently  calm  and  cold,  favored  by 
Raphael,  by  Giorgione  and  by  all  the  great  painters. 
On  such  another,  she  turned  her  head  with  an 
appreciative  delicacy,  terminating  a  roulade,  and 
seemed  to  be  listening  to  herself.  Sarrasine  cray- 
oned his  mistress  in  all  poses  :  he  made  her  unveiled, 
seated,  upright,  lying,  or  chaste,  or  amorous,  in 
realizing,  thanks  to  the  delirium  of  his  crayon, 
all  the  capricious  ideas  which  solicit  our  imagina- 
tion when  we  think  strongly  of  a  mistress.  But 
his  furious  thought  went  farther  than  his  designing. 
He  saw  La  Zambinella,  he  spoke  to  her,  supplicated 
her,  exhausted  a  thousand  years  of  life  and  of  hap- 
piness with  her,  placing  her  in  all  imaginable  situ- 
ations, in  essaying— so  to  speak — the  future  with 
her.  The  next  day,  he  sent  his  lackey  to  hire  for 
the  whole  season  a  box  near  the  stage.  Then,  like 
all  young  people  in  whom  the  soul  is  powerful,  he 
exaggerated  to  himself  the  difficulties  of  his  enter- 
prise,  and  gave  for  first  food  to  his  passion  the 


238  SARRASINE 

happiness  of  being  able  to  admire  his  mistress  with- 
out obstacles.    This  golden  age  of  love,  during  which 
we  draw  enjoyment  from  our  own  feeling  and  in 
which  we  find  ourselves  happy  almost  by  ourselves, 
was  not  destined  to  endure  long  in  the  case  of  Sar- 
rasine.     Nevertheless,  he  was  surprised  by  events 
while  he  was  still  under  the  charm  of  this  spring- 
time hallucination,  as  naive  as  it  was  voluptuous. 
During  a  week  he  lived  a  whole  life,  occupying  his 
mornings  with    modeling   the   clay   by  the   aid  of 
which    he   succeeded    in   copying   La   Zambinella, 
despite  the  veils,  the  petticoats,  the  corsets  and  the 
knots  of  ribbon  which  hid  her  from  him.     In  the 
evening,  installed  at  an  early  hour  in  his  box,  alone, 
reclining  on  a  sofa,  he  procured  for  himself,  after 
the  manner  of  a  Turk   intoxicated  with  opium,  a 
happiness  as  fruitful,  as  prodigal  as  he  could  wish. 
At  first,  he  familiarized  himself  gradually  with  the 
too  vivid  emotions  which  the  song  of  his  mistress 
occasioned  him;  then  he  subdued  his  eyes  to  see 
her,  and  finished  by  contemplating  her  without  fear- 
ing the  explosion  of  that  dumb  rage  by  which  he 
had  been  animated  on  the    first  day.      His  passion 
became  more  profound  as  it  became  more  tranquil. 
For  the  rest,  the  ferocious  sculptor  would  not  per- 
mit that  his  solitude,  peopled  with  images,  adorned 
with  the  fantasies  of  hope  and   full  of  happiness, 
should  be  troubled  by  his  comrades.     He  loved  with 
so  much  strength,  and  so  ingenuously,  that  he  had 
to  submit  to  the  innocent  scruples  with  which  we 
are  assailed  when  we  love  for  the  first  time.     In 


SARRASINE  239 

commencing  to  perceive  that  it  would  be  necessary 
very  soon  to  act,  to  intrigue,  to  ask  where  La  Zam- 
binella  lived,  to  know  if  she  had  a  mother,  an  uncle, 
a  guardian,  a  family;  in  thinking,  in  short,  on  the 
methods  of  seeing  her,  of  speaking  to  her,  he  felt 
his  heart  swell  so  strongly  with  such  ambitious 
ideas,  that  he  put  off  all  these  cares  till  the  morrow, 
happy  because  of  his  physical  sufferings  as  much  as 
of  his  intellectual  pleasures." 

"But,"  said  Madame  de  Rochefide  to  me,  inter- 
rupting me,  "I  do  not  see  anything  yet,  either  of 
Marianina  or  of  her  little  old  man." 

"You  see  nothing  but  him,"  I  cried,  impatient  as 
an  author  who  had  been  compelled  to  spoil  the  effect 
of  his  theatrical  demonstration. 

"For  several  days,"  I  resumed  after  a  pause, 
"Sarrasine  had  come  so  faithfully  to  take  his  place 
in  his  box,  and  his  looks  expressed  so  much  love, 
that  his  passion  for  the  voice  of  Zambinella  would 
have  been  the  news  of  all  Paris  if  this  adventure 
had  happened  there;  but,  in  Italy,  Madame,  at  the 
theatre  each  one  is  present  on  his  own  account, 
with  his  own  passions,  with  an  interest  of  the  heart 
which  excludes  the  spying  of  the  lorgnettes.  How- 
ever, the  frenzy  of  the  sculptor  was  not  destined  to 
long  escape  the  observation  of  the  singers  and  the 
cantatrices.  One  evening,  the  Frenchman  per- 
ceived that  they  were  laughing  at  him  in  the  side- 
scenes.  It  would  have  been  difficult  to  know  to 
what  extremity  he  might  not  have  been  carried  if 
La  Zambinella  had  not  entered  on  the  scene.     She 


240  SARRASINE 

threw  upon  Sarrasine  one  of  those  eloquent  looks 
which  often  say  much  more  than  the  women  wish 
them  to.  This  look  was  a  complete  revelation. 
Sarrasine  was  loved! 

"'If  it  is  only  a  caprice,'  thought  he,  already 
accusing  his  mistress  of  too  much  ardor,  'she  does 
not  know  the  domination  under  which  she  is  going 
to  fall.  Her  caprice  will  endure,  I  hope,  as  long  as 
my  life.' 

"At  this  moment,  three  blows  lightly  struck  on 
the  door  of  his  box  attracted  the  attention  of  the 
artist  He  opened  the  door.  An  old  woman  entered 
mysteriously. 

"'Young  man,' said  she, 'if  you  wish  to  be 
happy,  have  prudence.  Wrap  yourself  up  in  a  cape, 
pull  down  over  your  eyes  a  broad  hat;  then,  about 
ten  o'clock  in  the  evening,  place  yourself  in  the 
Rue  du  Corso,  before  the  Hotel  de  Spagna. ' 

"  '1  will  be  there,'  he  replied,  putting  two  louis  in 
the  withered  hand  of  the  duenna. 

"He  slipped  out  of  his  box,  after  having  made  a 
sign  of  intelligence  to  La  Zambinella,  who  lowered 
timidly  her  voluptuous  eyelids  like  a  woman  happy 
in  being  finally  comprehended.  Then  he  hastened 
home,  in  order  to  borrow  from  his  toilet  all  the 
seductions  which  it  could  lend  him.  As  he  came  out 
of  the  theatre,  an  unknown  arrested  him  by  the  arm. 

"  'Take  care  of  yourself,  Seigneur  Frenchman,' 
he  said  in  his  ear.  'It  is  a  question  of  life  or  death. 
Cardinal  Cicognara  is  her  protector,  and  does  not 
permit  any  frolics.' 


SARRASINE  241 

"Though  a  demon  should  have  opened  between 
Sarrasine  and  La  Zambinella  the  profundities  of 
hell,  in  this  moment  he  would  have  traversed  them 
all  with  one  stride.  Like  the  horses  of  the  immor- 
tals, described  by  Homer,  the  love  of  the  sculptor 
had  passed  over  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye  immense 
spaces. 

"  'Though  death  waited  for  me  on  coming  out  of 
the  house,  1  would  go  still  quicker,'  he  replied. 

"'Poverino!'  cried  the  unknown,  as  he  disap- 
peared. 

"To  speak  of  danger  to  a  lover,  is  it  not  to  sell 
him  pleasures?  Never  had  Sarrasine's  lackey  seen 
his  master  so  particular  in  matters  of  the  toilet. 
His  finest  sword,  a  present  from  Bouchardon,  the 
tie  which  Clotilde  had  given  him,  his  gold  em- 
broidered coat,  his  waistcoat  of  silver  brocade,  his 
snuff-box,  his  jeweled  watches,  all  were  drawn  from 
his  coffers,  and  he  adorned  himself  like  a  young  girl 
who  is  about  to  present  herself  before  her  first 
lover.  At  the  appointed  hour,  drunk  with  love  and 
boiling  with  hope,  Sarrasine,  his  nose  buried  in  his 
mantle,  hastened  to  the  rendezvous  given  by  the  old 
woman.     The  duenna  was  waiting  for  him. 

"  'You  are  very  late!'  she  said  to  him.     'Come.' 

"She  led  the  Frenchman  through  a  number  of 
little  streets  and  stopped  before  a  palace  of  a  suffi- 
ciently handsome  appearance.  She  knocked,  the 
door  opened.  She  conducted  Sarrasine  through  a 
labyrinth  of  staircases,  of  galleries,  and  of  apart- 
ments which  were  only  lighted  by  the  uncertain 
16 


242  SARRASINE     / 

gleams  of  the  moon,  and  arrived  presently  at  a  door, 
between  the  wings  of  which  escaped  a  bright  light, 
through  which  issued  the  joyful  sounds  of  several 
voices.  Suddenly,  Sarrasine  was  dazzled  when,  on 
a  word  from  the  old  woman,  he  was  admitted  into 
this  mysterious  apartment  and  found  himself  in  a 
salon  as  brilliantly  lighted  as  it  was  sumptuously 
furnished,  in  the  middle  of  which  was  placed  a  well- 
served  table,  charged  with  doubly-sacred  bottles, 
with  laughing  flasks,  the  ruby  facets  of  which 
sparkled  in  the  light  He  recognized  the  singers  and 
the  cantatrices  of  the  theatre,  mingled  with  charming 
women,  all  of  them  ready  to  commence  an  artistes' 
orgie  which  waited  only  for  him.  Sarrasine  sup- 
pressed a  movement  of  displeasure,  and  put  on  a 
good  countenance.  He  had  hoped  for  a  chamber 
dimly  lit,  his  mistress  over  a  brazier,  some  jealous 
one  within  two  steps,  death  and  love,  confidences 
exchanged  in  an  undertone,  heart-to-heart,  perilous 
kisses,  and  the  faces  so  close  that  the  hair  of  La 
Zambinella  should  caress  his  forehead  charged  with 
desire,  burning  with  happiness. 

"  'Vive  lafolieJ'  he  cried. — 'Signori  e  belle  donne, 
you  will  permit  me  to  take  my  revenge  later,  and  to 
testify  to  you  my  gratitude  for  the  manner  in  which 
you  welcome  a  poor  sculptor.' 

"After  having  received  the  compliments,  suffi- 
ciently hearty,  of  most  of  the  persons  present,  whom 
he  knew  by  sight,  he  endeavored  to  approach  the 
couch  on  which  La  Zambinella  was  nonchalantly 
reclining.       Oh!     how   his    heart    beat   when    he 


SARRASINE  243 

perceived  a  delicate  foot,  shod  in  one  of  those  slippers 
which,  permit  me  to  say  it,  Madame,  gave  formerly 
to  the  women's  feet  an  expression  so  coquettish,  so 
voluptuous,  that  I  do  not  know  how  the  men  were 
able  to  resist.  The  white  stockings,  well  fitting  and 
with  green  clocks,  the  short  skirts,  the  pointed  slip- 
pers and  the  high  heels  of  the  reign  of  Louis  XV. 
have  perhaps  contributed  a  little  to  demoralize 
Europe  and  the  clergy." 

"A  little,"  said  the  marchioness.  "You  have  not, 
then,  read  anything?" 

"La  Zambinella,"  I  resumed,  smiling,  "had 
saucily  crossed  her  legs,  swinging  the  one  which  was 
on  top,  the  attitude  of  a  duchess,  which  suited  very 
well  her  species  of  capricious  beauty,  full  of  a  cer- 
tain engaging  softness.  She  had  discarded  her 
theatre  costume,,  and  wore  a  bodice  which  outlined 
a  slender  figure  and  gave  style  to  paniers  and  a 
skirt  of  satin  embroidered  with  blue  flowers.  Her 
bust,  whose  treasures  were  hidden  by  lace  with 
a  luxurious  coquetry,  shone  with  whiteness.  Her 
hair  was  dressed  almost  like  that  of  Madame  du 
Barry,  her  face,  although  overshadowed  by  a  large 
bonnet,  appeared  none  the  less  delicate,  and  the 
powder  suited  her  well.  To  see  her  thus,  was  to 
adore  her.  She  smiled  graciously  on  the  sculptor. 
Sarrasine,  quite  discontented  at  being  able  to  speak 
to  her  only  before  witnesses,  seated  himself  politely 
near  her,  and  conversed  with  her  of  music,  praising 
her  extraordinary  talent;  but  his  voice  trembled 
with  love,  with  fear  and  with  hope. 


244  SARRASINE 

"  'What  are  you  afraid  of?'  Vitagliani,  the  most 
celebrated  singer  of  the  troupe,  asked  him.  'Go 
ahead;  you  have  not  a  single  rival  to  fear  here.' 

"After  having  spoken,  the  tenor  smiled  silently. 
The  lips  of  all  the  guests  repeated  this  smile,  the 
expression  of  which  had  a  hidden  malice  probably 
unperceived  by  a  lover.  The  publicity  of  his  love 
was  like  a  dagger  stroke  which  Sarrasine  had  sud- 
denly received  in  his  heart.  Although  endowed 
with  a  certain  force  of  character,  and  though  cer- 
tainly no  circumstances  could  master  the  violence 
of  his  passion,  he  had  not  yet,  perhaps,  reflected  that 
Zambinella  was  almost  a  courtesan,  and  that  he- 
could  not  have  in  one  being  the  pure  delights  which 
render  the  love  of  a  young  girl  so  delicious  and  the 
tempestuous  transports  by  which  a  woman  of  the 
theatre  causes  to  be  purchased  her  perilous  posses- 
sion. He  reflected  and  resigned  himself.  The  sup- 
per was  served.  Sarrasine  and  La  Zambinella 
placed  themselves  without  ceremony  by  the  side  of 
each  other.  During  half  of  the  festival  the  artistes 
preserved  some  decorum,  and  the  sculptor  could 
converse  with  the  cantatrice.  He  found  in  her  wit 
and  finesse;  but  she  was  of  a  surprising  ignorance, 
and  showed  herself  to  be  feeble  and  superstitious. 
The  delicacy  of  her  organs  was  reproduced  in  her 
intellectual  apprehension.  When  Vitagliani  un- 
corked the  first  bottle  of  champagne,  Sarrasine  read 
in  the  eyes  of  his  neighbor  a  sufficiently  lively  fear 
of  the  little  explosion  produced  by  the  release  of  the 
gas.      The   involuntary  shudder  of  this   feminine 


SARRASINE  245 

organization  was  interpreted  by  the  amorous  artist 
as  the  indication  of  an  excessive  sensibility.  This 
weakness  charmed  the  Frenchman.  There  is  so 
much  protection  in  the  love  of  a  man ! 

"  'You  will  dispose  of  my  power  as  of  a  shield!' 
"Is  not  this  phrase  written  at  the  bottom  of  all 
the  declarations  of  love?  Sarrasine,  too  passionate 
to  retail  gallantries  to  the  beautiful  Italian,  was, 
like  all  lovers,  alternately  grave,  laughing,  or 
thoughtful.  Although  he  apppeared  to  listen  to  the 
guests,  he  did  not  hear  a  word  of  what  they  said, 
so  much  did  he  give  himself  up  to  the  pleasure  of 
finding  himself  near  her,  of  touching  her  hand,  of 
serving  her.  He  was  swimming  in  a  secret  joy. 
Notwithstanding  the  eloquence  of  a  few  mutual 
glances,  he  was  astonished  at  the  reserve  which  La 
Zambinella  maintained  with  him.  She  had  indeed 
been  the  first  to  commence  to  press  his  foot  and  to 
incite  him  with  the  malice  of  a  woman  free  and 
amorous ;  but  suddenly  she  enveloped  herself  in  the 
modesty  of  a  young  girl  after  having  heard  Sarra- 
sine relate  an  incident  which  depicted  the  excessive 
violence  of  his  character.  When  the  supper  became 
an  orgie,  the  guests  began  to  sing,  inspired  by  the 
peralta  and  the  pedro-ximenes.  There  were  ravish- 
ing duets,  airs  of  Calabria,  Spanish  seguidillas, 
Neapolitan  canzonettes.  Intoxication  was  in  all 
eyes,  in  the  music,  in  the  hearts  and  in  the  voices. 
There  broke  out  all  at  once  an  enchanting  vivacity, 
a  cordial  unreservedness,  an  Italian  good  nature, 
of  which  nothing  can  give  an    idea   to   those  who 


246  SARRASINE 

know  only  the  assemblies  of  Paris,  the  routs  of 
London,  or  the  circles  of  Vienna.  Jests  and  words 
of  love  crossed  each  other,  like  balls  in  a  battle, 
through  the  laughter,  the  impieties,  the  invocations 
to  the  Holy  Virgin  or  al  Bambino.  A  man  lay 
down  on  a  sofa  and  went  to  sleep.  A  young  girl 
listened  to  a  declaration  without  knowing  that  she 
was  spilling  sherry  on  the  table-cloth.  In  the  mid- 
dle of  this  disorder,  La  Zambinella,  as  if  struck 
with  terror,  remained  thoughtful.  She  refused  to 
drink,  ate  perhaps  a  little  too  much;  but  gormandiz- 
ing is,  it  is  said,  a  grace  in  women.  While  admir- 
ing the  modesty  of  his  mistress,  Sarrasine  was 
making  serious  reflections  upon  the  future. 

"  'She doubtless  wishes  to  be  married,'  said  he  to 
himself. 

"Then  he  gave  himself  up  to  the  delights  of  this 
marriage.  His  entire  life  seemed  to  him  to  be  not 
long  enough  to  exhaust  the  spring  of  happiness 
which  he  found  in  the  bottom  of  his  soul.  Vitagli- 
ani,  his  neighbor,  filled  his  glass  so  often  that, 
towards  three  o'clock  in  the  morning,  without  being 
completely  drunken,  Sarrasine  found  himself  unable 
to  resist  his  delirium.  In  a  moment  of  impetuosity 
he  seized  and  carried  off  this  woman,  taking  refuge 
in  a  sort  of  boudoir  which  communicated  with  the 
salon,  and  to  the  door  of  which  he  had  more  than 
once  turned  his  eyes.  The  Italian  was  armed  with 
a  poniard. 

"  'If  you  approach,'  she  said,  'I  shall  be  forced  to 
plunge  this  weapon  in  your  heart.     Go!    You  would 


SARRASINE  247 

despise  me.  I  have  conceived  too  much  respect  for 
your  character  to  deliver  myself  thus.  I  do  not  wish 
to  destroy  the  sentiment  which  you  have  for  me.' 

"'Ah!  ah!'  said  Sarrasine,  'it  is  a  bad  way  to 
extinguish  a  passion  by  exciting  it.  Are  you  already 
corrupted  to  such  a  point  that,  old  in  heart,  you 
would  act  like  a  young  courtesan,  who  sharpens  the 
emotions  of  which  she  makes  a  commerce?' 

"  'But  it  is  Friday  to-day/  she  replied,  frightened 
at  the  violence  of  the  Frenchman. 

"Sarrasine,  who  was  not  devout,  commenced  to 
laugh.  La  Zambinella  leaped  like  a  young  roebuck 
and  fled  into  the  supper  room.  When  Sarrasine 
appeared  running  after  her,  he  was  welcomed  by 
a  laughter  truly  infernal.  He  saw  La  Zambinella 
fainting  on  a  sofa.  She  was  pale  and  as  if  ex- 
hausted by  the  extraordinary  effort  which  she  had 
just  made.  Although  Sarrasine  knew  very  little 
Italian,  he  heard  his  mistress  saying  in  a  low  voice 
to  Vitagliani : 

"  'But  he  will  kill  me!' 

"This  strange  scene  had  the  effect  of  quite  con- 
fusing the  sculptor.  His  reason  returned  to  him. 
He  remained  at  first  motionless;  then  he  recovered 
his  speech,  seated  himself  near  his  mistress  and 
protested  his  respect  for  her.  He  found  strength  to 
transform  his  passion  in  proffering  to  this  woman 
the  most  exalted  discourse;  and,  to  paint  his  love, 
he  displayed  the  treasures  of  that  magic  eloquence, 
serviceable  interpreter  which  women  rarely  refuse 
to  believe.     At  the  moment  when  the  first  gleams 


248  SARRASINE 

of  morning  came  to  surprise  the  guests,  a  woman  pro- 
posed to  go  to  Frascati.  Everybody  welcomed  with 
lively  acclamations  the  idea  of  passing  the  day  at 
the  Villa  Ludovisi.  Vitagliani  went  down  to  hire 
some  coaches.  Sarrasine  had  the  happiness  of 
accompanying  La  Zambinella  in  a  phaeton.  Once 
out  of  'Rome,  the  gayety,  suppressed  for  a  moment 
by  the  combats  which  each  one  had  waged  with 
sleep,  suddenly  reawakened.  Men  and  women,  all 
appeared  accustomed  to  this  strange  life,  to  these 
continued  pleasures,  to  this  enthusiasm  of  the 
artiste  which  makes  of  life  a  perpetual  festival,  in 
which  one  laughs  without  any  after-thought.  The 
companion  of  the  sculptor  was  the  only  one  who 
appeared  depressed. 

"'Are  you  unwell?'  said  Sarrasine  to  her. 
'Would  you  rather  return  to  your  own  house?' 

"  'I  am  not  strong  enough  to  support  all  these  ex- 
cesses,' she  replied.  'I  am  obliged  to  take  great 
care  of  myself ;  but,  by  your  side,  I  feel  so  well! 
Without  you,  I  would  not  have  stayed  for  that 
supper;  a  wasted  night  makes  me  lose  all  my  fresh- 
ness.' 

"'You  are  so  delicate!'  resumed  Sarrasine,  con- 
templating the  refined  features  of  this  charming 
creature. 

"  'The  orgies  ruin  my  voice.' 

"  'Now  that  we  are  alone,'  cried  the  artist,  'and 
that  you  have  no  longer  to  fear  the  effervescence  of 
my  passion,  say  to  me  that  you  love  me.' 

"  'Wherefore  ?'  she  replied ;  'for  what  purpose  ?     I 


■ 


LA  ZAMBINELLA   AND   SARRASINE 


"  'tf  y°u  approach]  she  said,  "I  shall  be  forced  to 
plunge  this  weapon  in  your  heart.  Go  J  You  would 
despise  me.  I  have  conceived  too  much  respect  for 
your  character  to  deliver  myself  thus.  I  do  not  wish 
to  destroy  the  sentiment  which  you  have  for  me.' 

"'Ah/  ah/'  said  Sarrasine,  'it  is  a  bad  way  to 
extinguish  a  passion  by  exciting  it! 


SARRASINE 


249 


seem  to  you  pretty.  But  you  are  French,  and  your 
feeling  will  pass  away.  Oh!  you  would  not  love 
me  as  1  would  like  to  be  loved.' 

"'How?' 

"  'Without  any  purpose  of  vulgar  passion,  purely. 
I  abhor  men  still  more  perhaps  than  1  hate  women. 
I  have  need  to  take  refuge  in  friendship.  The  world 
is  a  desert  for  me.  I  am  an  accursed  creature,  con- 
demned to  comprehend  happiness,  to  feel  it,  to  desire 
it,  and,  like  so  many  others,  obliged  to  see  it  flee 
away  from  me  every  hour.  Remember,  seigneur, 
that  I  would  not  have  deceived  you.  I  forbid  you 
to  love  me.  1  can  be  a  devoted  friend  for  you,  for  I 
admire  your  strength  and  your  character.  I  have 
need  of  a  brother,  of  a  protector.  Be  all  that  for 
me,  but  nothing  moie. ' 

"  'Not  love  you!' cried  Sarrasine; 'but,  dear  angel, 
thou  art  my  life,  my  happiness!' 

"  'If  I  said  one  word,  you  would  repulse  me  with 
horror.' 

"'Coquette!  nothing  can  frighten  me.  Say  to 
me  that  thou  wilt  cost  me  my  future,  that  in  two 
months  i  shall  die,  that  I  shall  be  damned  for  only 
having  embraced  thee — ' 

"He  embraced  her  notwithstanding  the  efforts 
which  La  Zambinella  made  to  avoid  this  passionate 
kiss. 

"  'Say  to  me  that  thou  art  a  demon,  that  thou 
wilt  require  my  fortune,  my  name,  all  my  celeb- 
rity! Wilt  thou  that  1  should  not  be  a  sculptor? 
Speak. ' 


250  SARRASINE 

"  'If  I  were  not  a  woman?'  asked  La  Zambinella, 
timidly,  in  a  silvery  and  soft  voice. 

"'What  a  fine  pleasantry!'  cried  Sarrasine. 
'Thinkest  thou  to  deceive  the  eye  of  an  artist? 
Have  I  not,  for  the  last  ten  days,  devoured,  scrutin- 
ized, admired  thy  perfections?  Only  a  woman 
could  have  this  round  and  soft  arm,  these  elegant 
contours.     Ah!  thou  desirest  compliments!' 

"She  smiled  sadly,  and  said  in  a  murmuring  voice : 

"'Fatal  beauty!' 

"She  lifted  her  eyes  to  Heaven.  At  that  moment 
her  look  had  an  unnamable  expression  of  horror 
so  powerful,  so  vivid,  that  Sarrasine  shuddered  at  it. 

"  'Seigneur  Frenchman,'  she  resumed,  'forget for- 
ever an  instant  of  madness.  I  esteem  you;  but,  as 
to  love,  do  not  ask  it  of  me;  this  feeling  is  smoth- 
ered in  my  heart.  I  have  no  heart!'  she  cried, 
weeping.  'The  theatre  on  which  you  have  seen 
me,  that  applause,  that  music,  that  glory,  to  which 
1  have  been  condemned,  that  is  my  life;  I  have  no 
other.  Within  a  few  hours,  you  will  no  longer  see  me 
with  the  same  eyes,  the  woman  whom  you  love  will 
be  dead. ' 

"The  sculptor  did  not  reply.  He  was  a  prey  to  a 
dumb  rage  which  oppressed  his  heart.  He  could 
only  look  at  this  extraordinary  woman  with  ardent 
eyes  which  burned.  This  voice  so  full  of  weakness, 
the  attitude,  the  manner,  and  the  gestures  of  Zam- 
binella, so  expressive  of  sadness,  of  melancholy, 
and  of  discouragement,  reawakened  in  his  soul  all 
the  wealth  of  passion.      Each   word   was    another 


SARRASINE  25 1 

goad.  At  that  moment  they  arrived  at  Frascati. 
When  the  artist  offered  his  arm  to  his  mistress  to 
help  her  to  descend,  he  felt  her  shuddering  all  over. 

"  'What  is  the  matter  with  you?  You  will  cause 
me  to  die,'  he  cried,  in  seeing  her  turn  pale,  'if  you 
should  have  the  least  sorrow  of  which  I  am  the 
cause,  even  innocently.' 

"  'A  snake!'  she  said,  indicating  an  adder  which 
was  sliding  along  the  bottom  of  a  ditch.  'I  am 
afraid  of  those  odious  beasts.' 

"Sarrasine  crushed  the  head  of  the  adder  with  his 
heel. 

"'How  can  you  have  so  much  courage?'  ex- 
claimed La  Zambinella,  looking  with  a  visible  ter- 
ror at  the  dead  reptile. 

"  'Well,'  said  the  artist,  smiling,  'would you  dare 
to  pretend  that  you  are  not  a  woman  ?' 

"They  rejoined  their  companions  and  walked 
about  in  the  woods  of  the  Villa  Ludovisi,  which  was 
then  the  property  of  Cardinal  Cicognara.  This 
morning  passed  away  too  quickly  for  the  amorous 
sculptor,  but  it  was  filled  with  a  crowd  of  incidents 
which  revealed  to  him  the  coquetry,  the  weakness, 
the  prettiness  and  delicacy  of  this  soul  soft  and 
without  energy.  It  was  all  the  woman,  with  her 
sudden  fears,  her  unreasonable  caprices,  her  instinc- 
tive troubles,  her  audacities  without  cause,  her 
bravadoes  and  her  delicious  nicety  of  sentiment. 
At  one  time,  straying  out  into  the  country,  the  little 
company  of  joyful  singers  saw  at  a  distance  some 
men  armed  to  the  teeth  and  whose  costume  was  in 


252  SARRASINE 

no  ways  reassuring.  At  the  exclamation:  'See! 
the  brigands!'  each  one  hurried  his  steps  to  seek 
refuge  in  the  enclosure  of  the  cardinal's  villa.  At 
that  critical  moment  Sarrasine  perceived  by  the 
pallor  of  La  Zambinella  that  she  no  longer  had 
strength  to  walk;  he  took  her  in  his  arms  and  car- 
ried her,  running  for  some  distance.  When  he  was 
within  a  short  distance  of  a  neighboring  vineyard, 
he  set  his  mistress  on  her  feet  again. 

"  'Explain  to  me,'  he  said  to  her,  'how  this  ex- 
treme weakness,  which,  in  any  other  woman,  would 
displease  me,  would  seem  odious,  and  the  least  proof 
of  which  would  almost  suffice  to  extinguish  my 
love,  pleases  me  in  you,  charms  me? — Oh,  how  I 
love  you !'  he  resumed.  'All  your  defects,  your  ter- 
rors, your  littlenesses,  add  an  indescribable  grace 
to  your  soul.  I  feel  that  I  should  detest  a  strong 
woman,  a  Sappho,  courageous,  full  of  energy,  of 
passion.  O !  frail  and  soft  creature !  how  couldst 
thou  be  otherwise?  That  voice  of  an  angel,  that 
delicate  voice,  would  be  a  contradiction  if  it  issued 
from  any  other  body  than  thine.' 

"  'I  cannot,'  she  said,  'give  you  any  hope.  Cease 
to  speak  to  me  thus,  for  you  are  mocked.  It  is  im- 
possible for  me  to  forbid  you  the  entrance  to  the 
theatre;  but,  if  you  love  me  or  if  you  are  wise,  you 
will  come  there  no  more.  Listen,  Monsieur, — '  she 
said,  in  a  grave  voice. 

"'Oh!  be  silent,'  said  the  intoxicated  artist. 
'Obstacles  only  increase  the  love  in  my  heart.' 

"La    Zambinella    remained    in    a   graceful    and 


SARRASINE  253 

modest  attitude;  but  she  was  silent,  as  if  a  terrible 
thought  had  revealed  to  her  some  misfortune.  When 
it  was  time  for  them  to  return  to  Rome,  she  took  her 
place  in  a  four-seated  berlin,  and  ordered  the  sculp- 
tor, with  an  imperiously  cruel  air,  to  return  alone 
in  the  phaeton.  On  the  road,  Sarrasine  resolved 
to  carry  off  La  Zambinella.  He  passed  the  whole  day 
in  forming  plans,  each  one  more  extravagant  than 
the  other.  At  nightfall,  as  he  left  his  house  to  in- 
quire of  someone  the  situation  of  the  palace  inhab- 
ited by  his  mistress,  he  encountered  one  of  his 
comrades  on  the  threshold  of  the  door. 

"  'My  dear  fellow,'  said  the  latter  to  him,  'I  am 
requested  by  our  ambassador  to  invite  you  to  come 
to  his  house  this  evening.  He  is  giving  a  mag- 
nificent concert,  and,  when  you  know  that  Zambi- 
nella will  be  there—' 

"'Zambinella!'  cried  Sarrasine,  in  a  delirium  at 
this  name;  'I  am  crazy  for  her!' 

"  'You  are  like  all  the  rest  of  the  world,'  replied 
his  comrade. 

"  'But,  if  you  are  my  friends,  you,  Vien,  Lauter- 
bourg,  and  Allegrain,  you  will  lend  me  your  assist- 
ance for  a  fine  stroke  after  the  fete  ?'  asked  Sarrasine. 

"'There  is  not  some  cardinal  to  be  killed? — 
some — ?' 

"  'No,  no,'  said  Sarrasine,  'I  ask  nothing  of  you 
which  honest  people  cannot  do.' 

"In  a  short  time,  the  sculptor  had  arranged  every- 
thing for  the  success  of  his  enterprise.  He  was  one 
of  the  last  to  arrive  at  the  ambassador's,   but  he 


254  SARRASINE 

came  in  a  traveling  carriage  drawn  by  vigorous 
horses  driven  by  one  of  the  most  enterprising  vet- 
turini  of  Rome.  The  palace  of  the  ambassador  was 
crowded;  it  was  not  without  difficulty  that  the 
sculptor,  unknown  to  all  the  domestics,  reached  the 
salon  in  which  at  that  moment  Zambinella  was 
singing. 

"  'It  is  doubtless  in  consideration  of  the  cardinals, 
the  bishops  and  the  abbes  who  are  here,'  asked  Sar- 
rasine,  'that  she  is  dressed  like  a  man,  that  she  has 
her  hair  in  a  bag  and  frizzled  and  wears  a  sword?' 

"'She!  What  she?'  replied  the  old  seigneur  to 
whom  Sarrasine  spoke. 

"  'La  Zambinella.' 

"  'La  Zambinella !'  replied  the  Roman  prince.  'Of 
what  are  you  talking?  Where  do  you  come  from? 
Has  there  ever  been  a  woman  on  the  stage  in  the 
theatres  of  Rome?  And  do  you  not  know  by  what 
kind  of  creatures  the  female  parts  are  filled  in  the 
States  of  the  Pope?  It  is  1,  Monsieur,  who  gave 
Zambinella  his  voice.  1  have  paid  everything  for 
that  scamp,  even  his  singing-master.  Well,  he  has 
so  little  gratitude  for  the  service  which  1  have  ren- 
dered him,  that  he  is  never  willing  to  set  foot  inside 
my  door.  And  yet,  if  he  makes  his  fortune,  he  will 
owe  it  to  me  entirely.' 

"The  Prince  Chigi  could  certainly  have  spoken  a 
long  time,  Sarrasine  did  not  hear  him.  A  frightful 
truth  had  penetrated  his  soul.  He  was  struck  as  if 
by  a  thunderbolt.  He  remained  motionless,  his  eyes 
fastened  on  this  dubious  singer.     His  flaming  regard 


SARRASINE  255 

had  a  sort  of  magnetic  influence  on  Zambinella,  for 
the  musico  finally  turned  his  eyes  toward  Sarrasine, 
and  then  his  celestial  voice  faltered.  He  trembled! 
An  involuntary  murmur  escaped  the  audience, 
which  he  held  spell-bound  by  his  lips,  and  completed 
his  trouble;  he  discontinued  his  air  and  sat  down. 
The  Cardinal  Cicognara,  who  had  seen  out  of  the 
corner  of  his  eye  the  direction  of  the  glance  of  his 
protege,  perceived  the  Frenchman ;  he  leaned  over 
toward  one  of  his  ecclesiastical  aides-de-camp,  and 
seemed  to  demand  the  name  of  the  sculptor.  When 
he  had  obtained  the  desired  response,  he  looked 
very  attentively  at  the  artist  and  gave  his  order 
to  an  abbe,  who  disappeared  rapidly.  How- 
ever, Zambinella,  having  recovered  himself,  recom- 
menced the  piece  which  he  had  interrupted  so 
capriciously;  but  he  executed  it  badly,  and  refused, 
notwithstanding  all  the  insistence  with  which  he 
was  surrounded,  to  sing  any  more.  This  was  the 
first  time  that  he  exercised  this  capricious  tyranny 
which,  later,  rendered  him  not  less  celebrated  than 
his  talent  and  his  immense  fortune,  due,  it  was 
said,  not  less  to  his  voice  than  to  his  beauty. 

"  'It  is  a  woman,'  said  Sarrasine,  thinking  him- 
self alone.  'There  is  underneath  all  this  some 
secret  intrigue.  The  Cardinal  Cicognara  deceives 
the  Pope  and  the  whole  city  of  Rome!' 

"Whereupon,  the  sculptor  left  the  salon,  reassem- 
bled his  friends  and  ambuscaded  them  in  the  court- 
yard of  the  palace.  When  Zambinella  was  assured 
of  the  departure  of  Sarrasine,   he  seemed  to  recover 


256  SARRASINE 

some  tranquillity.  Toward  midnight,  after  having 
wandered  through  the  salon  like  a  man  who  is  seek- 
ing an  enemy,  the  musico  left  the  assembly.  At  the 
moment  when  he  passed  the  door  of  the  palace,  he 
was  adroitly  seized  by  men  who  gagged  him  with  a 
handkerchief  and  put  him  into  the  carriage  hired  by 
Sarrasine.  Frozen  with  horror,  Zambinella  re- 
mained in  a  corner  without  daring  to  make  a  move- 
ment. He  saw  before  him  the  terrible  figure  of  the 
artist,  who  preserved  the  silence  of  death.  The 
journey  was  but  short.  Zambinella,  carried  up  by 
Sarrasine,  soon  found  himself  in  an  atelier,  sombre 
and  bare.  The  singer,,  half  dead,  remained  in  a 
chair,  without  daring  to  look  at  the  statue  of  a 
woman,  in  which  he  had  recognized  his  own  fea- 
tures. He  did  not  offer  a  word,  but  his  teeth  chat- 
tered; he  was  paralyzed  with  fear.  Sarrasine 
walked  up  and  down  with  great  strides.  Suddenly 
he  stopped  before  Zambinella. 

"  'Tell  me  the  truth,'  he  demanded,  in  a  dull  and 
changed  voice.  'Thou  art  a  woman?  The  Cardi- 
nal Cicognara — ' 

"Zambinella  fell  on  his  knees,  and  replied  only  by 
bowing  his  head. 

"  'Ah!  thou  art  a  woman,'  cried  the  artist,  in  de- 
lirium; 'for  even  a — ' 

"He  did  not  finish. 

"'No,'  he  resumed,  'he  would  not  have  such 
baseness.' 

"  'Ah!  do  not  kill  me!'  cried  Zambinella,  melt- 
ing into  tears.      'I  only  consented  to  deceive  you 


SARRASINE  257 

in  order  to  please  my  comrades,  who  wished  to 
laugh. ' 

"'To  laugh!'  replied  the  sculptor,  in  a  voice 
which  had  an  infernal  explosion.  'To  laugh!  to 
laugh!  Thou  hast  dared  to  play  with  a  man's  pas- 
sion, thou?' 

"  'Oh,  mercy!'  replied  Zambinella. 

"'I  should  put  thee  to  death!'  cried  Sarrasine, 
drawing  his  sword  with  a  violent  movement.  'But, ' 
he  resumed,  with  a  cold  disdain,  'in  searching  all 
thy  being  with  this  blade,  would  I  find  in  it  a  single 
sentiment  to  extinguish,  one  vengeance  to  satisfy  ? 
Thou  art  nothing.  Man  or  woman,  I  would  kill 
thee!  but—' 

"Sarrasine  made  a  gesture  of  disgust  which 
obliged  him  to  turn  his  head,  and  then  he  looked  at 
the  statue. 

"  'And  that  is  an  illusion!'  he  cried. 

"Then,  turning  toward  Zambinella: 

"  'A  woman's  heart  would  be  for  me  an  asy- 
lum, a  country.  Hast  thou  sisters  who  resemble 
thee?  No.  Well,  then,  die!— But  no,  thou  shalt 
live.  To  leave  thee  alive,  is  it  not  to  devote  thee 
to  something  worse  than  death  ?  It  is  not  my  blood 
nor  my  existence  that  I  regret,  but  the  future  and 
my  heart's  fortune.  Thy  debilitated  hand  has  over- 
thrown my  happiness.  What  hope  can  I  ravish 
from  thee  for  all  those  which  thou  hast  blighted? 
Thou  hast  dragged  me  down  even  to  thy  level.  To 
love,  to  be  loved!  are  henceforth  words  empty  of 
meaning  for  me,  as  for  thee.  Without  ceasing  I 
17 


258  SARRASINE 

shall  think  of  this  imaginary  woman  in  seeing  a 
real  woman.' 

"He  indicated  the  statue  with  a  gesture  of  de- 
spair. 

"  'I  shall  always  have  in  memory  a  celestial 
harpy  who  will  come  to  bury  its  claws  in  all  my 
manhood  sentiments,  and  who  will  stamp  all  other 
women  with  the  seal  of  imperfection.  Monster! 
thou  who  canst  give  life  to  nothing,  thou  hast  un- 
peopled the  earth  of  all  its  women.' 

"Sarrasine  seated  himself  in  front  of  the  terrified 
singer.  Two  great  tears  issued  from  his  dry  eyes, 
rolled  down  his  manly  cheeks  and  fell  to  the  floor, — 
two  tears  of  rage,  two  tears  bitter  and  burning. 

"  'No  more  love!  I  am  dead  to  all  pleasure,  to  all 
human  emotions.' 

''With  these  words,  he  seized  a  hammer  and 
threw  it  at  the  statue  with  such  extravagant  force 
that  he  missed  it.  He  thought  he  had  destroyed  this 
monument  of  his  folly,  and  he  then  grasped  his 
sword  and  brandished  it  to  kill  the  singer.  Zambi- 
nella  uttered  piercing  cries.  At  this  moment,  three 
men  entered,  and  the  sculptor  fell  suddenly,  pierced 
with  three  stiletto  thrusts. 

"  'From  the  Cardinal  Cicognara,'  said  one  of  them. 

"  'It  is  a  good  turn  worthy  of  a  Christian,'  replied 
the  Frenchman,  as  he  expired. 

"These  sombre  emissaries  informed  Zambinella 
of  the  uneasiness  of  his  protector,  who  was  waiting 
at  the  door,  in  a  closed  carriage,  in  order  to  carry 
him  away  as  soon  as  he  should  be  rescued." 


SARRASINE  259 

"But,"  said  Madame  de  Rochefide  to  me,  "what 
connection  is  there  between  this  history  and  the  lit- 
tle old  man  whom  we  have  seen  at  the  Lantys?" 

"Madame,  Cardinal  Cicognara  took  possession  of 
the  statue  of  Zambinella  and  caused  it  to  be  exe- 
cuted in  marble;  it  is  to-day  in  the  Museum  Albani. 
It  was  there  that,  in  1791,  the  Lanty  family  found 
it  again,  and  requested  Vien  to  copy  it.  The  por- 
trait which  showed  to  you  Zambinella  at  twenty,  a 
moment  after  having  seen  him  a  centenarian,  served 
later  for  the  Endymion  of  Girodet;  you  have  been 
able  to  recognize  its  type  in  the  Adonis." 

"But  this  he  or  she  Zambinella?" 

"Can  be  no  other,  Madame,  than  the  great-uncle 
of  Marianina.  You  may  readily  conceive  now  the 
interest  which  Madame  de  Lanty  may  have  in  con- 
cealing the  origin  of  a  fortune  which  comes  from— " 

"Enough!"  she  said,  making  to  me  an  imperious 
gesture. 

We  remained  for  a  moment  plunged  in  the  most 
profound  silence. 

"Well?"  I  said  to  her. 

"Ah!—"  she  cried,  rising  and  walking  rapidly 
about  the  chamber. 

She  came  up  to  look  at  me,  and  said  in  a  changed 
voice : 

"You  have  disgusted  me  with  life  and  with  pas- 
sions for  a  long  time.  With  the  exception  of  mon- 
sters, all  human  sentiments— do  they  not  unravel 
themselves  thus,  by  atrocious  deceptions  ?  Mothers, 
our  infants  assassinate  us  either  by  their  evil  conduct 


260  SARRASINE 

or  by  their  thanklessness.  Wives,  we  are  betrayed. 
Lovers,  we  are  forsaken,  abandoned.  Friendship! 
does  it  exist?  I  would  turn  nun  to-morrow  if  I  did 
not  know  how  to  remain  like  an  inaccessible  rock  in 
the  midst  of  the  storms  of  life.  If  the  future  state  of 
the  Christian  is  also  an  illusion,  at  least  it  is  not 
proved  so  till  after  death.     Leave  me  alone." 

"Ah!"  I  said  to  her,  "you  know  how  to  punish." 

"Should  I  be  wrong?" 

"Yes,"  I  replied,  with  a  sort  of  courage.  "In  re- 
lating this  story,  sufficiently  well  known  in  Italy,  1 
have  been  able  to  give  you  a  striking  proof  of  the 
actual  progress  made  by  civilization.  There  are  no 
longer  made  any  of  these  unfortunate  creatures." 

"Paris,"  said  she,  "is  a  very  hospitable  soil:  it 
welcomes  everything,  the  shameful  fortunes  and  the 
blood-stained  fortunes.  Crime  and  infamy  there 
have  right  of  asylum ;  virtue  alone  is  there  without 
altars.  But  the  pure  souls  have  a  country  in  heaven ! 
No  one  will  ever  have  recognized  me!  I  am  proud 
of  it." 

And  the  marchioness  remained  thoughtful. 

Paris,  November,  1830. 


FACINO   CANE 


(261) 


FACINO  CANE 

•& 

I  lived  at  that  time  in  a  little  street  which  you 
doubtless  know,  the  Rue  de  Lesdiguieres:  it  com- 
mences at  the  Rue  Saint-Antoine,  opposite  a  foun- 
tain near  to  the  Place  de  la  Bastille,  and  comes  out 
on  the  Rue  de  la  Cerisaie.  Love  of  science  had 
lodged  me  in  a  garret,  where  I  worked  during  the 
night,  and  I  spent  the  day  in  a  neighboring  library, 
that  of  MONSIEUR.  I  lived  frugally,  I  had  accept- 
ed all  the  conditions  of  the  monastic  life,  so  necessary 
to  workers.  When  the  weather  was  fine,  1  per- 
mitted myself  rarely  to  take  a  walk  on  the  Boule- 
vard Bourdon.  One  passion  only  drew  me  out  of 
my  studious  habits ;  but  was  not  this  also  study  ?  I 
was  interested  in  observing  the  manners  and  cus- 
toms of  the  faubourg,  its  inhabitants  and  their  char- 
acters. As  poorly  dressed  as  the  workmen 
themselves,  indifferent  to  the  proprieties,  I  did  not 
put  them  on  their  guard  against  me;  I  was  able  to 
mingle  with  them,  to  see  them  concluding  their  bar- 
gains, and  quarreling  amongst  themselves  at  the 
hour  when  they  left  their  work.  In  me,  the  faculty 
of  observation  had  already  become  intuitive,  it  pen- 
etrated the  soul   without  neglecting  the  body;  or, 

(263) 


264  FACINO  CANE 

rather,  it  seized  so  promptly  the  exterior  details, 
that  it  immediately  went  beyond  them;  it  gave  me 
the  faculty  of  living  the  life  of  the  individual  on 
whom  it  was  directed,  in  permitting  me  to  substi- 
tute myself  for  him  as  the  dervish  of  the  Thousand 
and  One  Nights  assumed  the  body  and  the  soul  of 
those  persons  over  whom  he  pronounced  certain 
words. 

When,  between  eleven  o'clock  and  midnight,  I 
encountered  a  laborer  and  his  wife  returning  to- 
gether from  the  Ambigu-Comique,  I  amused  myself 
by  following  them  from  the  Boulevard  du  Pont- 
aux-Choux  to  the  Boulevard  Beaumarchais.  These 
honest  people  talked  at  first  of  the  piece  which  they 
had  just  seen;  then  they  passed  insensibly  to  their 
own  affairs;  the  mother  dragged  her  child  along  by 
the  hand,  without  hearing  either  its  complaints  or 
its  questions;  the  couple  counted  the  money  which 
would  be  paid  to  them  the  next  day,  they  expended 
it  in  twenty  different  ways.  Then  there  would  be 
household  details,  lamentations  over  the  excessive 
price  of  potatoes,  or  on  the  length  of  the  winter  and 
the  dearness  of  fuel,  energetic  observations  on  the 
sum  due  to  the  baker;  finally,  discussions  which 
became  venomous,  and  in  which  each  of  them  dis- 
played his  or  her  character  in  picturesque  words.  In 
hearing  these  poor  folk,  I  was  able  to  assume  their 
life,  I  felt  their  rags  on  my  back,  I  walked  with  my 
feet  in  their  worn  shoes;  their  desires,  their  needs, 
all  passed  into  my  soul,  or  my  soul  passed  into 
theirs.     It  was  the  dream  of  a  waking  man.    I  grew 


FACINO  CANE  265 

indignant,  with  them,  at  the  overseers  of  the  work- 
shops who  tyrannized  over  them,  or  against  the  bad 
arrangements  which  made  them  return  several  times 
for  their  money.  To  quit  one's  daily  habits,  to 
become  a  being  outside  of  yourself  by  the  intoxica- 
tions of  the  moral  faculties,  and  to  play  this  game  at 
will,  such  was  my  distraction.  To  whom  did  I  owe 
this  gift?  Is  it  a  second  sight?  is  it  one  of  those 
qualities  the  abuse  of  which  leads  to  madness?  I 
had  never  sought  for  the  causes  of  this  power ;  I 
possess  it  and  make  use  of  it,  that  is  all.  Know 
only  that,  since  that  time,  I  have  decomposed  the 
elements  of  that  heterogeneous  mass  called  the  peo- 
ple, that  I  have  analyzed  it  in  such  a  manner  as  to 
be  able  to  value  its  good  or  its  evil  qualities.  I 
knew  already  of  what  utility  this  faubourg  could  be 
made,  this  seminary  of  revolutions  which  encloses 
heroes,  inventors,  knowing  practitioners,  cheats, 
blackguards,  virtues  and  vices  all  crowded  together 
by  poverty,  smothered  by  necessity,  drowned  in 
wine,  worn  out  by  strong  liquors.  You  could  not 
possibly  imagine  how  many  lost  adventures,  how 
many  forgotten  dramas  there  are  in  this  city  of 
sorrow!  How  many  horrible  and  beautiful  things! 
Imagination  will  never  discover  the  full  truth  which 
is  hidden  there  and  which  no  one  can  set  out  to 
discover ;  it  is  necessary  to  descend  too  low  to  find 
these  admirable  scenes,  tragic  or  comic,  master- 
pieces given  birth  to  by  chance.  I  do  not  know  how 
I  have  so  long  kept  untold  the  story  which  I  am  about 
to  relate  to  you ;  it  is  one  of  those  curious  recitals 


266  FACINO  CANE 

left  in  the  sack  from  which  memory  draws  them 
capriciously  like  the  numbers  of  the  lottery:  I  have 
many  others  quite  as  singular  as  this  one,  equally 
hidden;  but  they  will  have  their  turn,  believe  me. 

One  day,  my  housekeeper,  the  wife  of  a  work- 
man, came  to  ask  me  to  honor  with  my  presence 
the  wedding  of  one  of  her  sisters.  In  order  that  you 
may  comprehend  what  this  wedding  could  be,  it  is 
necessary  to  tell  you  that  I  gave  forty  sous  a  month 
to  this  poor  creature,  who  came  every  morning  to 
make  my  bed,  clean  my  shoes,  brush  my  clothes, 
sweep  the  chamber  and  prepare  my  dejeuner;  the 
rest  of  her  time  she  spent  in  turning  the  handle  of  a 
machine,  and  earned  by  this  hard  trade  ten  sous  a 
day.  Her  husband,  a  cabinet-maker,  earned  four 
francs.  But,  as  this  household  had  three  children, 
it  could  with  difficulty  manage  honestly  to  have 
bread  to  eat.  I  have  never  encountered  more  solid 
honesty  than  that  of  this  man  and  this  woman. 
Whenever  I  left  the  quarter,  during  five  years,  the 
Mere  Vaillant  came  to  congratulate  me  on  my  fete, 
bringing  me  a  bouquet  and  some  oranges,  she  who 
never  had  ten  sous  of  savings.  Poverty  had  brought 
us  close  together.  I  was  never  able  to  give  her  any- 
thing more  than  ten  francs,  often  borrowed  for  this 
purpose.  This  may  explain  my  promise  to  go  to  the 
wedding,  I  counted  on  being  able  to  envelop  myself 
in  the  happiness  of  these  poor  people. 

The  festival,  the  ball,  all  took  place  in  the  estab- 
lishment of  a  wine  merchant  in  the  Rue  de  Charen- 
ton,  on  the  first  floor,  in  a  large  room  lit  by  lamps 


FACINO  CANE  267 

with  tin  reflectors,  ornamented  with  a  dirty  wall- 
paper up  to  the  height  of  the  tables,  and  along  the 
walls  of  which  there  were  wooden  benches.  In  this 
chamber,  eighty  persons  in  tneir  best  clothes,  set 
off  with  bouquets  and  ribbons,  all  of  them  animated 
by  the  spirit  of  that  lively  quarter,  la  Courtille, 
with  flushed  faces,  danced  as  if  the  world  were  about 
to  end.  The  newly-married  couple  embraced  each 
other  to  the  general  satisfaction,  and  there  were 
the  "Eh!  eh!"  the  "Ah!  ah!"  very  facetious,  but 
really  less  indecent  than  are  the  timid  eye-glances 
of  well-bred  young  girls.  All  this  company  ex- 
pressed a  brutal  contentment  which  had  in  it  some- 
thing inexpressibly  contagious. 

But  neither  the  physiognomies  of  this  assembly, 
nor  the  wedding,  nor  anything  of  this  company  has 
any  relation  to  my  story.  Remember  only  the  odd- 
ness  of  the  scene.  Figure  to  yourself  the  ignoble 
shop  painted  in  red,  smell  the  odor  of  the  wine, 
listen  to  the  roarings  of  this  joy,  place  yourself  in 
this  faubourg,  in  the  middle  of  these  workpeople, 
of  these  old  men,  of  these  poor  women  given  over  to 
the  pleasures  of  a  night! 

The  orchestra  was  composed  of  three  blind  men 
from  the  hospital  of  the  Quinze-Vingts, — the  first 
was  a  violin,  the  second  a  clarionet,  and  the  third  a 
flageolet.  All  three  were  paid  a  lump  sum  of  seven 
francs  for  the  night.  For  that  price,  certainly, 
they  gave  neither  Rossini  nor  Beethoven;  they 
played  what  they  would  and  what  they  could ;  no 
one   addressed  them   any  reproaches,   a   charming 


268  FACINO  CANE 

delicacy!  Their  music  attacked  the  tympanum  so 
roughly,  that  after  having  looked  at  the  general 
assembly,  I  directed  my  observation  to  this  blind 
trio,  and  was  immediately  disposed  to  be  indulgent 
in  recognizing  their  uniform.  These  artists  were 
placed  in  the  embrasure  of  a  window;  to  distinguish 
their  countenances  it  was  necessary  to  be  near 
them. — I  did  not  place  myself  there  immediately, 
but  when  I  approached  them,  1  do  not  know  why, 
everything  was  said,  the  wedding  and  its  music 
disappeared,  my  curiosity  was  excited  to  the  highest 
degree,  for  my  soul  passed  into  the  body  of  the  clar- 
ionet player.  The  violin  and  the  flageolet  had  both 
of  them  commonplace  faces,  the  well-known  coun- 
tenance of  the  blind,  full  of  intenseness,  attentive 
and  grave ;  but  that  of  the  clarionet  was  one  of 
those  phenomena  which  arrest  suddenly  the  artist 
and  the  philosopher. 

Imagine  to  yourself  the  plaster  mask  of  Dante,  lit 
up  by  the  red  light  of  the  argand  lamp,  and  sur- 
mounted by  a  forest  of  hair  of  a  silvery  whiteness. 
The  bitter  and  dolorous  expression  of  this  magnifi- 
cent head  was  increased  by  the  blindness,  for  the 
extinguished  eyes  were  restored  to  life  by  thought; 
it  revealed  itself  in  them  like  a  burning  light,  pro- 
duced by  an  unique  and  incessant  desire,  vigorously 
inscribed  on  the  arched  forehead  which  was  trav- 
ersed by  wrinkles  like  the  courses  on  an  old  wall. 
This  old  man  blew  in  his  instrument  at  hazard,  with- 
out paying  the  least  attention  to  the  measure  or  the 
air,  his  fingers  were  raised  or  lowered,  manipulating 


FACINO  CANE  269 

the  old  keys,  mechanically;  he  did  not  give  him- 
self any  trouble  to  make  what  is  called  in  the  language 
of  the  orchestra  the  canards,  the  dancers  did  not  per- 
ceive it  any  more  than  did  the  two  acolytes  of  my 
Italian;  for  I  wished  that  he  should  be  an  Italian,  and 
he  was  an  Italian.    Something  of  grand  and  the  des- 
potic was  to  be  encountered  in  this  old  Homer  who 
guarded  in  himself  an  Odyssey  condemned  to  for- 
getful ness.     It    was    a    grandeur   so   real,   that   it 
triumphed  still  over  his  abjection ;  it  was  a  despot- 
ism so  vivid  that  it  dominated  poverty.     Not  one  of 
the  violent  passions  which  conduct  man  to  good  as 
to  evil,  which  make  of  him  a  convict  or  a  hero,  was 
lacking  to  this  visage  nobly  modeled,  of  an  Italian 
lividness,  shaded  by  grayish  brows  which  projected 
their   shadows  over  profound  cavities  in  which  one 
feared  to  see  reappear  the  light  of  thought,  as  one 
fears  to  see  come  to  the  mouth  of  a  cavern  brigands 
armed  with  torches  and  poniards.     There  existed  a 
lion  in  that  cage  of  flesh,  a  lion  whose  rage  had 
been  uselessly  exhausted  against  the  iron  of  his  bar- 
riers.   The  fire  of  despair  was  extinct  in  its  cinders, 
the  lava  had  grown  cold ;  but  the  furrows,  the  over- 
turnings,  a  little  smoke,  still   bore  witness  to  the 
violence   of  the  eruption,    the    ravages   of   flame. 
These  ideas,  called  up  by  the  aspect  of  this  man, 
were  as  heated  in  my  soul  as  they  were  cold  on  his 
countenance. 

Between  each  contradance  the  violin  and  the 
flageolet,  seriously  occupied  with  their  glasses  and 
their   bottle,    hung    their    instruments    to    certain 


270  FACINO  CANE 

buttons  of  their  rusty  coats,  put  out  their  hands  to  a 
little  table  placed  in  the  embrasure  of  a  window  in 
which  was  their  supply,  and  offered  each  time  to 
the  Italian  a  full  glass,  which  he  could  not  take  him- 
self, for  the  table  was  behind  his  chair;  each  time 
the  clarionet  thanked  them  by  a  friendly  sign  of  the 
head.  Their  movements  were  performed  with  that 
precision  which  is  always  so  surprising  among  the 
blind  of  the  Quinze-Vingts,  and  which  makes  it 
seem  as  though  they  saw.  I  approached  the  three 
blind  men  to  listen  to  them,  but  when  I  was  near 
them,  they  studied  me,  failing  to  recognize  doubt- 
less one  of  the  working-class,  and  kept  silent. 

"From  what  country  are  you,  you  who  play  the 
clarionet?" 

"From  Venice,"  replied  the  blind  man,  with  a 
slight  Italian  accent. 

"Were  you  born  blind,  or  did  you  lose  your  sight 
by—?" 

"By  accident,"  he  replied  quickly,  "a  cursed 
gutta  serena. ' ' 

"Venice  is  a  beautiful  city;  I  have  always  desired 
to  go  there." 

The  countenance  of  the  old  man  became  animated, 
his  wrinkles  were  agitated,  he  was  violently  moved. 

"If  I  were  to  go  there  with  you,  you  would  not 
lose  your  time,"  he  said  to  me. 

"Do  not  speak  to  him  of  Venice,"  said  the  violin 
to  me,  "or  our  Doge  will  go  off  again;  all  the  more 
so  that  he  already  has  put  two  bottles  away,  the 
prince!" 


FACINO  CANE  27 1 

"Come,  forward  march,  Pere  Canard,"  said  the 
flageolet 

All  three  of  them  commenced  to  play;  but,  during 
the  time  which  they  took  to  execute  the  four  parts 
of  the  contradance,  the  Venetian  scented  me;  he 
guessed  at  the  excessive  interest  which  1  took  in 
him.  His  physiognomy  lost  its  cold  expression  of 
sadness;  I  do  not  know  what  hope  lit  up  his  fea- 
tures, spread  like  a  blue  flame  in  his  wrinkles;  he 
smiled  and  wiped  his  forehead,  that  audacious  and 
terrible  forehead;  in  short,  he  became  gay  like  a 
man  who  mounts  his  hobby-horse. 

"How  old  are  you?"  I  asked  him. 

"Eighty-two  years." 

"How  long  have  you  been  blind?" 

"For  nearly  fifty  years,"  he  replied,  with  an 
accent  which  revealed  that  his  regrets  were  not  only 
for  the  loss  of  his  sight,  but  for  some  great  power 
of  which  he  had  been  deprived. 

"Why  do  they,  then,  call  you  the  Doge?"  I  asked 
him. 

"  Ah !  a  farce,  "said  he :" I  am  a  patrician  of  Venice, 
and  I  might  have  been  Doge  as  well  as  any  other." 

"What  is  your  name,  then?" 

"Here,"  he  said  to  me,  "the  Pere  Canet.  My 
name  could  never  be  inscribed  in  any  other  way  on 
the  registers;  but,  in  Italian,  it  is  Marco  Facino 
Cane,  principe  de  Varese." 

"How!  you  are  descended  from  the  famous  con- 
dottiere,  Facino  Cane,  whose  conquests  passed  to 
the  Dukes  of  Milan?" 


272  FACINO  CANE 

"E  vero,"  said  he.  "In  those  times,  in  order  not 
to  be  killed  by  the  Visconti,  the  son  of  Cane  took 
refuge  in  Venice  and  caused  his  name  to  be  in- 
scribed on  the  Golden  Book.  But  there  is  now  no 
longer  any  Cane  nor  any  Book!" 

And  he  made  a  terrifying  gesture  of  extin- 
guished patriotism  and  of  disgust  for  all  things 
human. 

"But,  if  you  were  Senator  of  Venice,  you  should 
be  rich;  how  have  you  been  able  to  lose  all  your  for- 
tune?" 

At  this  question,  he  raised  his  head  toward  me  as 
if  to  contemplate  me  with  a  movement  truly  tragic, 
and  replied  to  me: 

"In  misfortunes!" 

He  no  longer  cared  to  drink;  he  refused  by  a  ges- 
ture a  glass  of  wine  which  the  old  flageolet  offered 
him  at  this  moment,  then  he  lowered  his  head. 
These  details  were  not  of  a  nature  to  extinguish 
my  curiosity.  During  the  contradance  which  was 
played  by  these  three  machines,  I  contemplated  the 
noble  old  Venetian  with  those  sentiments  which 
take  possession  of  a  young  man  of  twenty.  I  saw 
Venice  and  the  Adriatic,  I  saw  it  in  ruins  in  this 
ruined  figure.  I  walked  about  in  this  city  so  dear 
to  its  inhabitants;  I  went  from  the  Rialto  to  the 
Grand  Canal,  from  the  quay  of  the  Schiavoni  to  the 
Lido,  I  returned  to  its  cathedral,  so  originally  sub- 
lime, I  looked  at  the  windows  of  the  Casa  d'Oro, 
the  ornaments  of  each  of  which  are  different;  I  con- 
templated its  old  palaces  so  rich  in  marble,  in  short 


FACINO  CANE  273 

all  those  marvels  with  which  he  who  is  wise  sym- 
pathizes all  the  more  that  he  coiors  them  at  his  own 
will,  and  does  not  deprive  his  dreams  of  their  poetry 
by  the  spectacle  of  reality.  1  followed  up  the  course 
of  the  life  of  this  scion  of  the  greatest  of  the  con- 
dottieri,  searching  in  it  the  traces  of  his  misfortunes 
and  the  causes  of  that  profound  degradation,  physi- 
cal and  moral,  which  rendered  finer  still  the  sparks 
of  grandeur  and  of  nobility  reanimated  in  this 
moment.  Our  thoughts  were  doubtless  reciprocal, 
for  I  believe  that  blindness  renders  the  intellectual 
communications  much  more  rapid  in  prohibiting  the 
attention  from  scattering  itself  on  exterior  objects. 
The  proof  of  our  sympathy  was  not  long  in  manifest- 
ing itself.  Facino  Cane  ceased  to  play,  rose,  came 
to  me  and  said  to  me  "Let  us  go!"  which  produced 
on  me  the  effect  of  an  electric  shock.  I  gave  him 
my  arm  and  we  went  out. 
When  we  were  in  the  street,  he  said  to  me: 
"Will  you  take  me  to  Venice,  conduct  me  there? 
Will  you  have  faith  in  me?  You  will  be  richer  than 
are  the  ten  richest  houses  of  Amsterdam  or  of  Lon- 
don, richer  than  the  Rothschilds;  in  short,  rich  as 
the  Thousand  and  One  Nights." 

I  thought  that  this  man  was  mad ;  but  he  had  in 
his  voice  a  power  which  1  obeyed.  I  let  him  con- 
duct me  and  he  led  me  toward  the  ditches  of  the 
Bastille  as  if  he  had  eyes.  He  seated  himself  on  a 
stone,  in  a  very  solitary  locality,  where  since  has 
been  built  the  bridge  by  which  the  Canal  Saint- 
Martin  communicates  with  the  Seine.  I  placed 
18 


274  FACINO  CANE 

myself  on  another  stone  before  this  old  man,  whose 
white  hair  shone  like  silver  threads  in  the  light  of 
the  moon.  The  silence  which  was  scarcely  troubled 
by  the  stormy  noise  of  the  boulevard  which  reached 
us,  the  purity  of  the  night,  everything,  contributed 
to  render  this  scene  truly  fantastic. 

"You  speak  of  millions  to  a  young  man,  and  you 
think  that  he  would  hesitate  to  endure  a  thousand 
evils  to  possess  them!     Are  you  not  mocking  me?" 

"May  I  die  unconfessed, "  he  said  to  me,  violently, 
"if  that  which  I  am  going  to  say  to  you  is  not  true. 
I  was  twenty  years  of  age,  as  you  are  at  this 
moment.  I  was  rich,  I  was  handsome,  I  was  noble; 
I  commenced  by  the  first  of  follies,  love.  I  have 
loved  as  one  no  longer  loves,  even  to  the  point  of 
putting  myself  in  a  chest  and  risking  being  pon- 
iarded without  having  received  anything  but  the 
promise  of  a  kiss.  To  die  for  her  seemed  to  me 
a  whole  life.  In  1760,  I  fell  in  love  with  a  Ven- 
dramini,  a  woman  of  eighteen,  married  to  a  Sagredo, 
one  of  the  richest  senators,  a  man  of  thirty,  madly 
loving  his  wife.  My  mistress  and  1,  we  were  as  in- 
nocent as  two  cherubim,  when  the  sposo  surprised  us 
talking  love;  I  was  without  arms,  he  was  armed,  but 
he  missed  me;  I  sprang  upon  him,  I  strangled  him 
with  my  two  hands,  twisting  his  neck  like  that  of  a 
pullet.  I  wished  to  depart  with  Bianca;  she  would 
not  follow  me.  Such  are  women !  I  went  away  alone. 
I  was  condemned,  my  goods  were  sequestered  for 
the  benefit  of  my  heirs;  but  I  had  carried  off  my 
diamonds,  five  pictures  by  Titian  rolled  up,  and  all 


FACINO  CANE  275 

my  gold.  I  went  to  Milan,  where  I  was  not  dis- 
turbed: my  affair  did  not  interest  the  state. — A  lit- 
tle observation  before  continuing, "  he  said  after  a 
pause.  "Whether  the  fancies  of  a  woman  have  any 
influence  or  not  on  her  child  while  she  carries  it  or 
when  she  conceives  it,  it  is  certain  that  my  mother 
had  a  passion  for  gold  during  her  pregnancy.  I  have 
for  gold  a  monomania,  the  satisfaction  of  which  is 
so  necessary  to  my  life  that,  in  all  the  situations  in 
which  I  have  found  myself,  I  have  never  been  with- 
out gold  about  me;  I  handle  gold  constantly;  when 
young  I  always  wore  jewels  and  I  had  always  about 
me  two  or  three  hundred  ducats." 

In  saying  these  words,  he  drew  two  ducats  from 
his  pocket  and  showed  them  to  me. 

"I  am  sensitive  to  gold.  Although  blind,  I  stop 
before  the  jewelers'  windows.  This  passion  ruined 
me;  I  have  become  a  gambler  to  play  with  gold.  I 
was  not  a  cheat;  I  was  cheated,  I  was  ruined.  When 
I  no  longer  had  any  fortune,  I  passionately  longed 
to  see  Bianca  again, — I  returned  secretly  to  Venice, 
I  found  her  again;  I  was  happy  during  six  months, 
hidden  by  her,  nourished  by  her.  I  thought  de- 
liciously  to  finish  my  life  thus.  She  was  sought 
by  the  Proveditor ;  he  suspected  a  rival;  in  Italy, 
they  smell  them, — he  spied  on  us,  he  surprised  us 
in  bed,  the  coward!  Judge  how  fierce  was  our 
struggle:  I  did  not  kill  him,  I  wounded  him  griev- 
ously. This  adventure  destroyed  my  happiness. 
Since  that  day,  I  have  never  found  again  a  Bianca. 
I  have   had   great   pleasures,  I  have   lived   at  the 


276  FACINO  CANE 

Court  of  Louis  XV.,  among  the  most  celebrated 
women;  nowhere  have  I  found  the  qualities,  the 
graces,  the  love  of  my  dear  Venetian.  The  Pro- 
veditor  had  his  servants;  he  summoned  them,  the 
palace  was  surrounded,  invaded;  I  defended  myself 
so  as  to  be  able  to  die  under  the  eye  of  Bianca,  who 
aided  me  in  killing  the  Proveditor.  This  woman 
had  once  not  been  willing  to  fly  with  me;  but,  after 
six  months  of  happiness,  she  wished  to  die  with  me, 
and  did  receive  several  strokes.  Taken  in  a  great 
cloak  which  was  thrown  over  me,  I  was  rolled 
in  it,  carried  to  a  gondola  and  transported  to  a 
dungeon  in  the  Wells.  I  was  twenty-two  years 
of  age;  I  held  on  so  well  to  a  fragment  of  my 
sword  that,  to  have  taken  it,  it  would  have  been 
necessary  to  cut  off  my  hand.  By  a  singular  chance, 
or  rather  by  a  wise  precaution,  I  hid  this  piece  of 
steel  in  a  corner,  as  though  it  might  be  of  use  to 
me.  I  was  cared  for.  None  of  my  wounds  were 
mortal.  At  twenty-two,  one  recovers  from  any- 
thing. As  I  was  doomed  to  die  decapitated,  I  pre- 
tended illness  in  order  to  gain  time.  I  believed 
myself  in  a  dungeon  near  the  canal ;  my  project  was 
to  escape  by  digging  a  hole  through  the  wall  and 
swimming  the  canal,  at  the  risk  of  drowning. 

"These  were  the  reasonings  on  which  my  hope 
was  founded. 

"Every  time  that  the  jailer  brought  me  food,  I 
read  the  indications  written  on  the  walls,  such  as 
4 To  the  Palace, ' '  To  the  Canal, ' '  To  the  Crypts, '  and 
1  finally  made  out  a  plan  the   meaning  of  which 


FACINO  CANE  277 

disquieted  me  but  little,  but  which  was  explicable 
by  the  actual  condition  of  the  ducal  palace,  not  then 
completed.  With  that  inspiration  which  the  desire 
of  regaining  liberty  gives,  I  succeeded  in  decipher- 
ing, by  feeling  with  the  ends  of  my  fingers,  the 
surface  of  a  stone,  an  Arab  inscription  by  which  the 
author  of  this  work  notified  his  successors  that  he 
had  detached  two  stones  of  the  last  course  and  exca- 
vated eleven  feet  underground.  To  continue  his 
work,  it  would  be  necessary  to  spread  on  the  floor 
of  the  dungeon  itself  the  pieces  of  stone  and  mortar 
produced  by  the  work  of  excavation.  Even  if  the 
guardians  or  the  inquisitors  had  not  been  reassured 
by  the  construction  of  the  edifice,  which  required 
only  an  exterior  surveillance,  the  disposition  of  the 
Wells,  in  which  it  was  necessary  to  descend  by  sev- 
eral steps,  permitted  the  gradual  raising  of  the  soil 
without  the  guardians  perceiving  it.  This  immense 
labor  had  been  profitless,  at  least  for  the  one  who 
had  undertaken  it,  for  its  incompletion  announced 
the  death  of  the  unknown.  In  order  that  his  devo- 
tion should  not  be  forever  lost,  it  was  necessary 
that  a  prisoner  should  understand  Arabic,  but  I  had 
studied  the  Oriental  languages  at  the  Convent  of 
the  Armenians.  A  phrase  written  behind  the  stone 
revealed  the  destiny  of  this  unfortunate,  who  had 
died  a  victim  to  his  immense  wealth,  which  Venice 
had  coveted  and  of  which  she  had  taken  possession. 
A  month's  time  was  required  to  enable  me  to  arrive 
at  a  result  While  I  worked,  and  in  those  moments 
in  which  fatigue  overwhelmed  me,  1  heard  the  sound 


278  FACINO  CANE 

of  gold,  I  saw  gold  before  me,  I  was  dazzled  by  dia- 
monds!— Oh!  wait. 

"One  night,  my  worn  steel  blade  encountered 
wood.  I  sharpened  my  bit  of  sword,  and  made  a 
hole  in  this  wood.  In  order  to  work,  I  extended 
myself  like  a  serpent  on  my  stomach;  I  stripped 
myself  naked  to  work  like  a  mole,  extending  my 
hands  in  front  of  me  and  making  of  the  stone  itself 
a  point  of  support.  Two  days  before  that  in  which 
I  was  to  appear  before  my  judges,  during  the  night, 
1  wished  to  make  a  last  effort;  I  pierced  the  wood, 
and  my  steel  encountered  nothing  beyond. 

"Judge  of  my  surprise  when  I  applied  my  eye  to 
this  hole!  I  was  in  the  roof  of  a  cave  in  which  a 
feeble  light  permitted  me  to  perceive  a  mountain  of 
gold.  The  Doge  and  one  of  the  Ten  were  in  this 
cavern;  I  heard  their  voices;  their  conversation  in- 
formed me  that  this  was  the  secret  treasure  of  the 
Republic,  the  gifts  of  the  Doges  and  a  portion  of 
booty  called  the  denier  of  Venice,  and  taken  from 
the  product  of  expeditions. 

"I  was  saved! 

"When  the  jailer  came,  I  proposed  to  him  to  aid 
me  in  my  flight  and  to  go  with  me,  carrying  off  all 
that  we  could  take.  There  was  no  question  of  hesi- 
tation ;  he  accepted.  A  vessel  was  about  to  sail  for 
the  Levant,  all  precautions  were  taken.  Bianca 
favored  the  plan  which  I  dictated  to  my  confederate. 
In  order  not  to  excite  suspicion,  Bianca  was  to  rejoin 
us  at  Smyrna.  In  one  night  the  hole  was  enlarged 
and  we  descended  into  the  secret  treasury  of  Venice. 


FACINO  CANE  279 

What  a  night!  I  saw  four  casks  full  of  gold.  In  the 
preceding  room,  the  silver  was  also  piled  up  in  two 
heaps  which  left  a  path  in  the  middle  to  traverse  the 
chamber,  where  the  coins  in  sloping  piles  rose  to 
the  height  of  five  feet  against  the  walls.  I  thought 
that  the  jailer  would  go  crazy:  he  sang,  he  leaped 
about,  he  laughed,  he  gamboled  in  the  gold;  I 
threatened  to  strangle  him  if  he  wasted  time  or  if 
he  made  a  noise.  In  his  joy,  he  did  not  see  at  first 
a  table  on  which  were  the  diamonds.  I  threw  my- 
self upon  it  cleverly  enough  to  fill  my  sailor's  jacket 
and  the  pockets  of  my  pantaloons.  My  God!  I  did 
not  take  a  third  of  them.  Under  this  table  were  the 
ingots  of  gold.  I  persuaded  my  companion  to  fill 
with  gold  as  many  sacks  as  we  could  carry,  telling 
him  that  this  was  the  only  means  of  avoiding  detec- 
tion in  foreign  countries. 

"  'Pearls,  jewels  and  diamonds  would  cause  us  to 
be  recognized,'  I  said  to  him. 

"With  all  our  greediness  we  could  only  take  two 
thousand  pounds  of  gold,  which  necessitated  six 
journeys  through  the  prison  to  the  gondola.  The 
sentinel  at  the  water-gate  had  been  bribed  by  a  sack 
of  ten  pounds  of  gold.  As  to  the  two  gondoliers, 
they  believed  themselves  serving  the  Republic.  At 
day-break  we  departed.  When  we  were  in  the  open 
sea,  and  when  I  thought  of  this  night;  when  I 
recalled  to  myself  all  the  sensations  which  I  had 
experienced,  when  I  saw  again  this  immense  treas- 
ure, where,  according  to  my  valuation,  I  had  left 
thirty  millions  in  silver  and  twenty  millions  in  gold, 


280  FACINO  CANE 

several  millions  in  pearls,  diamonds  and  rubies,  I 
felt  in  myself  something  like  a  sensation  of  mad- 
ness.    I  had  the  fever  of  gold. 

"We  disembarked  at  Smyrna,  and  we  took  ship 
again  immediately  for  France.  As  we  went  on  board 
the  French  vessel,  God  did  me  the  favor  to  relieve 
me  of  my  confederate.  At  that  moment  I  did  not 
think  of  all  the  consequences  of  this  chance  evil,  at 
which  I  so  rejoiced.  We  were  so  completely  un- 
nerved that  we  remained  stupefied,  saying  nothing 
to  each  other,  while  waiting  till  we  should  be  in 
safety  to  enjoy  ourselves  at  our  ease.  It  is  not  sur- 
prising that  this  scamp  lost  his  head.  You  will  see 
how  God  punished  me! 

"1  did  not  feel  easy  until  I  had  sold  two-thirds 
of  my  diamonds  in  London  and  in  Amsterdam,  and 
converted  my  gold-dust  into  commercial  obligations. 
During  five  years  I  hid  myself  in  Madrid;  then,  in 
1770,  I  came  to  Paris  under  a  Spanish  name  and  led 
a  most  brilliant  life.  Bianca  was  dead.  In  the 
midst  of  my  pleasures,  while  I  was  enjoying  a  for- 
tune of  six  millions,  I  was  struck  with  blindness.  I 
do  not  doubt  that  this  infirmity  was  the  result  of  my 
sojourn  in  the  cell,  of  my  working  in  the  stone,  if, 
however,  my  faculty  of  seeing  gold  had  not  carried 
with  it  an  abuse  of  the  visual  power  which  predes- 
tined me  to  lose  my  sight. 

"At  this  time,  I  was  in  love  with  a  woman  to 
whom  I  thought  to  unite  my  fate.  I  had  revealed  to 
her  the  secret  of  my  name :  she  belonged  to  a  power- 
ful family.     I  had  great  hopes   in  the  favor  which 


FACINO  CANE  28 1 

Louis  XV.  accorded  me;  I  had  put  all  my  confidence 
in  this  woman,  who  was  the  friend  of  Madame  du 
Barry;  she  advised  me  to  consult  a  famous  oculist 
in  London;  but  after  some  months  spent  in  that 
city,  I  was  abandoned  there  by  this  woman  in  Hyde 
Park.  She  had  stripped  me  of  all  my  fortune  without 
leaving  me  any  resource;  for,  obliged  to  conceal  my 
name,  which  would  have  delivered  me  to  the  ven- 
geance of  Venice,  I  could  not  invoke  the  assistance 
of  any  one ;  I  feared  Venice.  My  infirmity  was  made 
the  most  of  by  the  spies  with  whom  this  woman  had 
surrounded  me.  I  spare  you  the  recital  of  adven- 
tures worthy  of  Gil  Bias.  Your  Revolution  arrived. 
I  was  obliged  to  become  an  inmate  of  the  Quinze- 
Vingts,  to  which  this  creature  caused  me  to  be  ad- 
mitted after  having  kept  me  for  two  years  at  the 
Bicetre  as  a  lunatic.  I  have  never  been  able  to  kill 
her.  I  could  not  see,  and  I  was  too  poor  to  buy  an 
arm.  If,  before  losing  Benedetto  Carpi,  my  jailer, 
I  had  consulted  him  on  the  situation  of  my  cell,  I 
would  have  been  able  to  find  again  the  treasury  and 
would  have  returned  to  Venice  when  the  Repub- 
lic was  abolished  by  Napoleon — 

"Nevertheless,  notwithstanding  my  blindness,  let 
us  go  to  Venice!  I  will  find  again  the  door  of  the 
prison;  I  will  see  the  gold  through  the  walls,  I  will 
smell  it  under  the  waters  in  which  it  is  buried;  for 
the  events  which  have  overthrown  the  power  of 
Venice  are  such  that  the  secret  of  this  treasure  must 
have  died  with  Vendramino,  the  brother  of  Bianca, 
a  Doge,  who,  1  hoped,  would  have  made  my  peace 


282  FACINO  CANE 

with  the  Ten.  I  sent  letters  to  the  First  Consul,  I 
proposed  a  treaty  to  the  Emperor  of  Austria;  every- 
where have  I  been  refused  as  a  madman !  Come,  let 
us  set  out  for  Venice;  we  will  depart  beggars,  we 
will  come  back  millionaires;  we  will  re-purchase 
my  property  and  you  shall  be  my  heir,  you  shall  be 
Prince  de  Varese!" 

Stupefied  by  this  confidence,  which  in  my  imagi- 
nations took  the  proportions  of  a  poem,  at  the  aspect 
of  this  whitened  head,  and  before  the  black  water 
of  the  moat  of  the  Bastille,  a  water  as  still  as  that 
of  the  canals  of  Venice,  I  did  not  reply.  Facino 
Cane  thought,  doubtless,  that  I  judged  him  like  all 
the  others,  with  a  scornful  pity;  he  made  a  gesture 
which  expressed  all  the  philosophy  of  despair. 

This  recital  had  carried  him  back,  perhaps,  to  his 
happy  days  at  Venice:  he  seized  his  clarionet  and 
began  to  play  in  a  melancholy  manner  a  Venetian 
ballad,  a  barcarolle  for  which  he  found  his  early 
skill,  his  talent  of  the  amorous  patrician.  It  was 
something  like  the  Super flumina  Babylonis.  My  eyes 
filled  with  tears.  If  some  belated  passers-by  hap- 
pened to  pass  along  the  Boulevard  Bourdon,  doubt- 
less they  lingered  to  hear  this  last  prayer  of  the 
banished,  the  last  regret  of  a  lost  name,  in  which 
was  mingled  the  memory  of  Bianca.  But  the  gold 
soon  regained  the  ascendancy,  and  the  fatal  passion 
extinguished  the  light  of  youth. 

"This  treasure,"  he  said  to  me,  "I  see  it  every- 
where, awakened  as  in  a  dream ;  I  walk  there,  the 
diamonds  glitter  before  me;  I  am  not  so  blind  as  you 


FACINO  CANE  283 

think;  the  gold  and  the  diamonds  light  up  my  night, 
the  night  of  the  last  Facino  Cane,  for  my  title  passes 
to  the  Memmi.  My  God!  the  punishment  of  the 
murderer  commenced  early!     Ave  Maria — " 

He  recited  some  prayers  which  I  did  not  hear. 

"We  will  go  to  Venice!"  I  said  to  him  when  he 
rose. 

"I  have  then  found  a  man!"  he  cried,  his  face 
lighting  up. 

I  conducted  him  home,  giving  him  my  arm;  he 
grasped  my  hand  at  the  door  of  the  Quinze-Vingts, 
at  the  moment  when  some  of  the  guests  at  the 
wedding  were  returning  and  making  a  noise  suffi- 
cient to  waken  the  dead. 

"Shall  we  set  out  to-morrow?"  said  the  old  man. 

"As  soon  as  we  have  a  little  money." 

"But  we  can  go  on  foot,  I  will  ask  alms. — I  am 
robust,  and  one  is  young  when  one  sees  gold  before 
him." 

Facino  Cane  died  during  the  winter,  after  having 
languished  for  two  months.  The  poor  man  had  a 
catarrh. 

Paris,  March,  1836. 


A  MAN  OF  BUSINESS 


(285) 


TO  MONSIEUR  LE  BARON  JAMES  DE  ROTHSCHILD, 
CONSUL-GENERAL   OF  AUSTRIA  AT   PARIS,   BANKER 


(287) 


...'.. 


CERIZET  AT  MAX  I  ME' S 


With  tJlis  word,  the  narrator  obtained  the  most 
profound  silence. 

"  'Monsieur  le  Comtek  said  Cerizet,  'I  am  sent  by 
one  Monsieur  Charles  Claparon,  formerly  a  banker! 

"'Ah/    what   does   he   want  with    me,   the  poor 
devil? — ' 

'Well,  he  lias  become  your  creditor  for  a  sum  of 
three  thousand  two  hundred  francs  seventy-five  cen- 
times, in  capital,  interest,  and  costs — ' 

"  'The  Con  teller  claim,'  said  Maximc,  who  knew  all 
about  his  affairs  as  a  pilot  knows  his  coasts. 


A  MAN  OF  BUSINESS 

* 

Lorette  is  a  decent  word  invented  to  express  the 
state  of  a  young  girl  or  the  young  girl  of  a  state 
difficult  to  indicate,  and  which,  in  its  modesty,  the 
French  Academy  has  neglected  to  define,  in  consid- 
eration of  the  age  of  its  forty  members.  When  a 
new  name  is  applicable  to  a  social  case  which  can- 
not be  otherwise  expressed  without  periphrase,  the 
fortune  of  that  word  is  made.  Thus  la  lorette  has 
passed  into  all  classes  of  society,  even  into  those  in 
which  a  lorette  herself  will  never  pass.  The  word 
was  only  made  in  1840,  doubtless  owing  to  the 
accumulation  of  these  nests  of  swallows  around  the 
church  dedicated  to  Notre-Dame  de  Lorette.  This 
is  only  written  for  the  etymologists.  These  gentle- 
men would  not  be  so  much  embarrassed  if  the 
writers  of  the  Middle  Ages  had  taken  the  pains  to 
describe  manners  and  customs,  as  we  do  in  these 
times  of  analysis  and  of  description.  Mademoiselle 
Turquet,  or  Malaga,  for  she  is  much  better  known 
under  her  nom  de  guerre — see  The  Pretended  Mistress 
— is  one  of  the  first  parishioners  of  this  charming 
church.  This  joyful  and  spirituelle  young  woman, 
possessing  as  her  fortune  only  her  beauty,  furnished, 
19  (289) 


29O  A  MAN  OF  BUSINESS 

at  the  moment  of  which  this  history  relates,  the 
happiness  of  a  notary  who  had  in  his  notaress  a 
wife  a  trifle  too  devout,  a  trifle  too  stiff,  a  trifle  too 
dry  to  find  happiness  at  home.  Now,  on  an  evening 
of  the  Carnival,  Maitre  Cardot  had  regaled,  at 
Mademoiselle  Turquet's,  Desroches  the  advocate, 
Bixiou  the  caricaturist,  Lousteau  the  feuilletonist, 
and  Nathan,  whose  illustrious  names  in  LA  COMEDIE 
HUMAINE  render  superfluous  any  kind  of  portrait. 
The  young  La  Palferine,  notwithstanding  his  title 
of  comte  de  vieille  roche,  rock,  alas!  without  any 
vein  of  metal  in  it,  had  honored  with  his  presence 
the  illegitimate  domicile  of  the  notary.  If  one  does 
not  dine  in  the  house  of  a  lorette  in  order  to  eat 
there  the  patriarchal  beef,  the  meagre  chicken  of 
the  conjugal  table  and  the  family  salad,  neither  is 
one  expected  to  hold  there  the  hypocritical  discourses 
which  take  place  in  a  salon  furnished  by  virtuous 
female  bourgeoises.  Ah!  when  will  good  manners 
be  attractive  ?  when  will  the  women  of  the  fashion- 
able world  show  a  little  less  of  their  shoulders  and  a 
little  more  of  good  humor  or  of  wit?  Marguerite 
Turquet,  the  Aspasia  of  the  Cirque-Olympique,  is 
one  of  those  fresh  and  lively  natures  to  whom  every- 
thing is  forgiven  because  of  their  candor  in  the  fault 
and  their  spirit  in  the  repentance,  to  whom  you  say, 
as  did  Cardot,  clever  enough,  although  a  notary,  to 
say  to  her :  "Cheat  me  cleverly !"  Do  not  believe, 
however,  in  any  enormity.  Desroches  and  Cardot 
were  two  too  good  fellows  and  too  old  in  the  trade  not 
to  be  on  a  level  with  Bixiou,  Lousteau,  Nathan  and 


A  MAN  OF  BUSINESS  291 

the  young  count.  And  these  gentlemen,  having 
often  had  recourse  to  the  two  officers  of  the  law, 
knew  them  too  intimately  to,  in  lorette  phrase,  "make 
them  pose."  The  conversation,  perfumed  by  the 
fragrance  of  seven  cigars,  fantastic  at  first  as  a  goat 
at  liberty,  concentrated  finally  on  that  strategy  which 
creates  at  Paris  the  incessant  battle  waged  between 
the  creditors  and  the  debtors.  Now,  if  you  will 
give  yourself  the  trouble  to  remember  the  life  and 
the  antecedents  of  the  guests,  you  will  recognize 
that  it  would  have  been  difficult  to  have  found  in 
Paris  persons  better  instructed  in  this  matter, — 
some  emeritus,  the  others  artists,  they  resembled 
magistrates  joking  with  the  accused.  A  series  of  de- 
signs sketched  by  Bixiou  on  Clichy  had  been  the 
cause  of  the  direction  which  the  discourse  had  taken. 
It  was  midnight.  These  personages,  variously 
grouped  in  the  salon  around  the  table  and  before  the 
fire,  were  discoursing  in  turns  that  not  only  are 
comprehensible  and  possible  only  in  Paris,  but 
which,  still  more,  are  only  made  and  can  only  be 
understood  in  the  zone  described  by  the  Faubourg 
Montmartre  and  by  the  Rue  delaChaussee-d'Antin, 
between  the  heights  of  the  Rue  de  Navarin  and  the 
line  of  the  boulevards. 

In  ten  minutes,  the  profound  reflections,  the  great 
and  the  little  moral,  all  the  quibbles,  were  exhausted 
on  this  subject,  already  exhausted  about  1500  by 
Rabelais.  It  was  not  of  small  merit  to  renounce 
this  display  of  fireworks  terminated  by  this  last 
squib  contributed  by  Malaga: 


292  A  MAN  OF  BUSINESS 

"All  this  turns  to  the  profit  of  the  bootmaker," 
said  she.  "I  have  left  a  milliner  who  failed  me  in 
two  hats.  She  came  raging  twenty-seven  times  to 
demand  of  me  twenty  francs.  She  did  not  know 
that  we  never  have  twenty  francs.  One  has  a 
thousand  francs,  one  sends  to  one's  notary  for  five 
hundred  francs ;  but  twenty  francs,  I  have  never  had 
them.  My  cook  or  my  femme  de  chambre  have 
perhaps  twenty  francs  between  them.  For  myself, 
I  have  only  credit,  and  I  should  lose  that  in  borrow- 
ing twenty  francs.  If  I  should  ask  for  twenty  francs, 
nothing  would  any  longer  distinguish  me  from  my 
confreres  who  promenade  along  the  boulevard." 

"Has  the  milliner  been  paid?"  said  La  Palferine. 

"Ah,  there!  are  you  getting  stupid,  you  there?" 
she  said  to  La  Palferine,  winking  at  him;  "she 
came  this  morning  for  the  twenty-seventh  time; 
that  is  why  I  tell  you  about  it." 

"What  did  you  do?"  said  Desroches. 

"I  took  pity  on  her,  and — I  ordered  of  her  the 
little  hat  which  I  have  ended  by  inventing  in  order 
to  get  away  from  commonplace  style.  If  Made- 
moiselle Amanda  succeeds,  she  will  ask  nothing  more 
of  me;  her  fortune  is  made." 

"That  which  I  have  seen  of  the  finest  in  this 
species  of  contest,"  said  Maitre  Desroches,  "paints, 
it  seems  to  me,  Paris,  for  those  who  practice  it, 
much  better  than  all  the  pictures  which  they  are 
forever  painting  of  a  fantastic  Paris.  You  think 
yourselves  pretty  strong,  you  others,"  he  said, 
looking  at  Nathan  and  Lousteau,    Bixiou  and  La 


A  MAN  OF   BUSINESS  293 

Palferine;  "but  the  king  in  this  respect  is  a  certain 
count  who,  at  the  present  time,  is  occupying  himself 
with  coming  to  an  end,  and  who,  in  his  time,  has 
passed  for  the  most  skilful,  the  most  adroit,  the  most 
foxy,  the  most  instructed,  the  most  daring,  the  most 
subtle,  the  firmest,  the  most  foreseeing  of  all  the 
corsairs  in  yellow  gloves,  in  cabriolets,  with  beauti- 
ful manners,  who  have  navigated,  navigate  and  will 
navigate  on  the  stormy  sea  of  Paris.  Without  faith 
or  law,  his  private  politics  have  been  directed  by  the 
principles  which  direct  those  of  the  English  cabinet 
Up  to  the  time  of  his  marriage,  his  life  was  a  con- 
tinual warfare  like  that  of — Lousteau,"  he  said. 
"I  have  been  and  I  am  still  his  advocate." 

"And  the  first  letter  of  his  name  is  Maxime  de 
Trailles,"  said  La  Palferine. 

"He  has,  moreover,  always  paid,  has  never 
wronged  anyone,"  resumed  Desroches;  "but,  as 
our  friend  Bixiou  had  just  remarked,  to  pay  in 
March  that  which  you  do  not  wish  to  pay  till  Octo- 
ber is  an  attack  on  personal  liberty.  By  virtue  of 
an  article  of  his  particular  code,  Maxime  considered 
as  a  swindling  the  means  which  one  of  his  creditors 
employed  to  be  paid  immediately.  For  a  long  time 
the  bill  of  exchange  had  been  comprehended  by  him 
in  all  its  consequences,  immediate  and  mediate.  A 
young  man  spoke  of  the  bill  of  exchange  in  my 
place  before  him  as:  'The  Asses'  Bridge!'  'No,' 
said  he,  'it  is  The  Bridge  of  Sighs;  one  never 
returns.'  Thus  his  science  in  matters  of  commercial 
jurisprudence  was  so   complete    that  a  procurator 


294  A  MAN  OF  BUSINESS 

could  have  taught  him  nothing.  You  know  that  at 
that  time  he  possessed  nothing;  his  carriage,  his 
horses  were  hired;  he  lived  with  his  valet  de 
chambre,  for  whom,  it  is  said,  he  will  always  be  a 
great  man,  even  after  the  marriage  which  he  will 
make !  A  member  of  three  clubs,  he  dined  at  one  of 
them  when  he  had  no  invitation  out.  Generally, 
he  used  his  domicile  so  little — " 

"He  said  to  me,  to  me,"  cried  La  Palferine,  inter- 
rupting Desroches:  "  'my  only  fatuity  is  to  pretend 
that  1  live  in  the  Rue  Pigalle. '  " 

"There  is  one  of  the  two  combatants,"  resumed 
Desroches;  "now,  then,  here  is  the  other.  You 
have  heard  more  or  less  spoken  of  a  certain  Clap- 
aron. " 

"He  wears  his  hair  in  this  way,"  cried  Bixiou, 
making  his  hair  stand  on  end. 

And,  gifted  with  the  same  talent  that  Chopin,  the 
pianist,  possessed  in  so  high  a  degree,  that  of  coun- 
terfeiting people,  he  represented  the  personage  on 
the  instant  with  a  frightful  truthfulness. 

"He  rolls  his  head  this  way  in  speaking;  he 
has  been  a  traveling  salesman,  he  has  tried  all 
trades — " 

"Well,  he  was  born  for  traveling,  for  he  is,  at 
this  moment  while  I  am  talking  to  you,  on  his  way 
to  America,"  said  Desroches.  "There  is  no  other 
chance  for  him  but  that,  for  he  will  probably  be 
condemned  by  contumacy  for  fraudulent  bankruptcy 
at  the  coming  Session." 

"A  man  overboard,"  cried  Malaga. 


A  MAN  OF  BUSINESS  295 

"This  Claparon,"  resumed  Desroches,  "was  dur- 
ing six  or  seven  years  the  screen,  the  man  of  straw, 
the  scapegoat,  of  two  of  our  friends,  Du  Tillet  and 
Nucingen;  but,  in  1829,  his  part  was  so  well  known 
that—" 

"Our  friends  dropped  him,"  said  Bixiou. 

"In  short,  they  abandoned  him  to  his  destiny; 
and,"  resumed  Desroches,  "he  rolled  in  the  mud. 
In  1833,  he  associated  himself  to  carry  on  business 
with  a  man  named  Cerizet — " 

"What!  he  who  in  the  matter  of  stock  companies 
got  up  one  with  such  a  pretty  combination  that  the 
sixth  chamber  knocked  him  over  with  two  years  in 
prison?"  asked  the  lorette. 

"The  same,"  replied  Desroches.  "Under  the 
Restoration,  the  trade  of  this  Cerizet  consisted,  from 
1823  to  1827,  in  signing  intrepidly  articles  pursued 
inveterately  by  the  public  minister,  and  in  going  to 
prison.  A  man  rendered  himself  illustrious  cheaply 
at  that  time.  The  Liberal  Party  called  its  depart- 
ment champion  THE  COURAGEOUS  CERIZET.  This 
zeal  was  recompensed  about  1828  by  the  gen- 
eral interest.  The  general  interest  is  a  species  of 
civic  crown  awarded  by  the  newspapers.  Cerizet 
wished  to  discount  the  general  interest;  he  came  to 
Paris,  where,  under  the  patronage  of  the  bankers  of 
the  Left,  he  made  his  debut  by  a  business  agency, 
combined  with  banking  operations,  with  funds 
loaned  by  a  man  who  had  banished  himself,  a 
player  too  skilful,  whose  funds,  in  July,  1830,  had 
foundered  in  company  with  the  Ship  of  State — " 


296  A  MAN  OF  BUSINESS 

"Eh!    it  is  that  which  we   have  surnamed  the 
Method  of  the  cards! — "  cried  Bixiou. 

"Do  not  speak  evil  of  that  poor  fellow,"  cried 
Malaga.     "D'Estourny  was  a  good  boy!" 

"You  can  understand  the  role  which  a  ruined 
man  might  be  expected  to  play  in  1830  who  was 
known,  politically  speaking,  as  the  courageous  Cer- 
izet!  He  was  sent  into  a  very  pretty  sub-prefec- 
ture," resumed  Desroches.  "Unfortunately  for 
Cerizet,  authority  has  not  as  much  ingenuity  as 
have  the  parties,  who,  during  the  fight,  make  pro- 
jectiles of  everything.  Cerizet  was  obliged  to  send 
in  his  resignation  after  three  months  of  service. 
Had  he  not  taken  it  into  his  head  to  wish  to  be  pop- 
ular !  As  he  had  not  yet  done  anything  to  lose  his  title 
of  nobility — the  courageous  Cerizet!— the  govern- 
ment proposed  to  him,  as  an  indemnity,  to  become 
director  of  an  opposition  journal  which  should  be 
ministerial  in  petto.  Thus  it  was  the  government 
who  perverted  this  fine  character.  Cerizet,  finding 
himself  a  little  too  much  in  his  directorship  like  a 
bird  on  a  rotten  bough,  launched  himself  into  that 
pretty  stock-company  where  he  unluckily,  as  you 
have  just  said,  caught  two  years  in  prison, — but  in 
which  the  sharpest  of  them  entrapped  the  public." 

"We  know  the  sharpest  of  them,"  said  Bixiou; 
"do  not  slander  that  poor  fellow,  he  is  trapped! 
Couture  let  his  cash  be  caught  there;  who  would 
ever  have  thought  it!" 

"Cerizet  is,  moreover,  an  ignoble  man,  and  one 
whom  the  evils  of  vulgar  debauch  have  disfigured," 


A  MAN  OF  BUSINESS  297 

resumed  Desroches.  "Let  us  return  to  the  promised 
duel !  Then,  never  did  two  traders  of  the  worst 
species,  of  the  worst  manners,  more  ignoble  in 
aspect,  associate  themselves  together  to  carry  on  a 
dirtier  business.  For  funds  to  provide  for  the  run- 
ning expenses,  they  counted  on  that  species  of  slang 
which  is  given  by  the  knowledge  of  Paris,  the 
hardihood  which  is  given  by  poverty,  the  trickery 
which  is  given  by  the  habits  of  business,  the 
science  which  is  given  by  the  knowledge  of  Paris- 
ian fortunes,  of  their  origin,  of  their  relations,  the 
acquaintances  and  intrinsic  values  of  each  one. 
This  association  of  two  carotteiirs,  excuse  the  word, 
the  only  one  which  can,  in  the  slang  of  the  Bourse, 
describe  them  to  you,  was  of  short  duration.  Like 
two  famished  dogs,  they  fought  over  each  bit  of  car- 
rion. The  first  speculations  of  the  house  of  Cerizet 
and  Claparon  were,  however,  sufficiently  well  con- 
trived. These  two  rogues  associated  themselves 
with  the  Barbets,  the  Chaboisseaus,  the  Samanons 
and  other  usurers  from  whom  they  bought  doubt- 
ful claims.  The  Claparon  agency  was  then  situ- 
ated in  a  little  entresol  of  the  Rue  Chabannais, 
composed  of  five  rooms,  and  the  rent  of  which  did 
not  amount  to  more  than  seven  hundred  francs. 
Each  partner  slept  in  a  little  chamber  which, 
through  prudence,  was  kept  so  carefully  closed  that 
my  master  clerk  was  never  able  to  penetrate  them. 
The  offices  consisted  of  an  antechamber,  a  salon, 
and  a  cabinet  of  which  the  furniture  would  not  have 
brought  three  hundred  francs  at  the  auctioneers'. 


298  A  MAN   OF  BUSINESS 

You  know  Paris  well  enough  to  be  able  to  see  the 
arrangement  of  the  two  offices:  haircloth  chairs, 
a  table  with  a  green  cloth,  a  mean  clock  between 
two  candlesticks  under  glass  which  bored  to  look 
at,  before  a  little  mirror  with  a  gilded  frame, 
on  a  chimney-piece  the  fire-brands  in  which 
were,  according  to  my  master  clerk,  two  years  old! 
As  to  the  cabinet,  you  can  guess  it:  many  paste- 
board boxes  and  little  business! — a  common  portfolio 
for  each  partner;  then  in  the  middle  the  cylin- 
drical desk  empty  as  the  cash-box!  two  working 
chairs  on  each  side  of  a  chimney-piece  with  a  coal 
fire.  On  the  floor  was  laid  a  carpet,  second-hand, 
like  the  credits.  In  short,  it  was  that  stuff 
mahogany  which  is  sold  in  our  offices  during 
fifty  years  from  predecessor  to  successor.  You  are 
now  acquainted  with  each  of  the  two  adversaries. 
Well,  in  the  first  three  months  of  their  association, 
which  was  liquidated  by  blows  of  the  fist  at  the  end 
of  seven  months,  Cerizet  and  Claparon  bought  two 
thousand  francs'  worth  of  paper  signed  Maxime — 
since  Maxime  there  is — and  stuffed  the  two  portfol- 
ios full — judgment,  appeal,  decree,  execution,  report, 
— in  short,  a  credit  of  three  thousand  two  hundred 
francs  and  some  centimes  which  they  had  for  five 
hundred  francs  by  a  conveyance  under  private  sig- 
nature, with  special  power  of  attorney  to  act  in 
order  to  avoid  the  costs. — At  that  time,  Maxime, 
already  ripe,  had  one  of  those  caprices  peculiar  to 
men  of  fifty — " 

"Antonia!"  cried  La    Palferine,   "that  Antonia 


A  MAN  OF  BUSINESS  299 

whose  fortune  had  been  made  by  a  letter  in  which  I 
reclaimed  a  tooth  brush  from  her!" 

"Her  real  name  is  Chocardelle,"  said  Malaga, 
whom  this  pretentious  name  vexed. 

"That's  the  one,"  resumed  Desroches. 

"Maxime  had  committed  this  fault  only  this  once 
in  all  his  life;  but,  what  would  you  have,  vice  is 
not  perfect!"  said  Bixiou. 

"Maxime  was  still  ignorant  of  the  life  which  one 
leads  with  a  little  girl  of  eighteen  who  wishes  to 
throw  herself,  head  first,  out  of  her  honest  garret  to 
fall  into  a  sumptuous  equipage,"  resumed  Desroches, 
"and  statesmen  should  know  everything.  At  this 
epoch,  De  Marsay  had  just  employed  his  friend,  our 
friend,  in  the  high  comedy  of  politics.  A  man  of 
great  conquests,  Maxime  had  known  only  titled 
women ;  and,  at  fifty,  he  certainly  had  the  right  to 
bite  into  a  little  fruit  said  to  be  wild,  like  a  hunter 
who  stops  in  a  peasant's  field  under  an  apple  tree. 
The  count  found  for  Mademoiselle  Chocardelle  a  lit- 
tle literary  establishment  sufficiently  elegant,  a  great 
opportunity,  as  always — " 

"Bah!  she  did  not  stay  there  six  months,"  said 
Nathan;  "she  was  too  handsome  to  keep  a  literary 
establishment." 

"Are  you  the  father  of  her  child? — "  said  the 
lorette  to  Nathan. 

"One  morning,"  resumed  Desroches,  "Cerizet, 
who,  since  the  purchase  of  Maxime's  notes,  had 
arrived  by  degrees  at  the  style  of  the  first  clerk  of 
a  bailiff,   was  introduced,    after   seven  unavailing 


300  A  MAN  OF  BUSINESS 

attempts,  into  the  count's  apartments.  Suzon,  the 
old  valet  de  chambre,  though  expert,  had  come  to 
take  Cerizet  for  a  solicitor  who  arrived  to  propose  a 
thousand  ecus  to  Maxime  if  he  would  obtain  for  a 
young  woman  a  shop  for  stamped  paper.  Suzon, 
without  any  suspicion  of  this  little  scamp,  a  real 
gamin  of  Paris  with  prudence  drubbed  into  him  by 
his  condemnation  by  the  correctional  police,  per- 
suaded his  master  to  receive  him.  Do  you  see  this 
man  of  business,  with  an  uneasy  glance,  thin  hair, 
a  bald  forehead,  with  a  little  dry  black  coat,  in 
muddy  boots — " 

"What  an  image  of  Credit!"  cried  Lousteau. 

"—Before  the  count,"  resumed  Desroches,  "the 
image  of  the  Debt  insolent,  in  a  dressing-gown  of 
white  flannel,  in  slippers  embroidered  by  some  mar- 
chioness, in  pantaloons  of  beautiful  white  wool 
having  on  his  black  dyed  hair  a  magnificent  cap, 
displaying  a  dazzling  shirt  front,  and  playing  with 
the  tassels  of  his  girdle?—" 

"It  is  a  Genre  painting,  "said  Nathan,  "for  those 
who  know  the  pretty  little  waiting-room  in  which 
Maxime  breakfasted,  full  of  pictures  of  great  value, 
hung  with  silk,  in  which  one  walked  on  a  Smyrna 
carpet,  whilst  admiring  cabinets  full  of  curiosities, 
of  rarities  that  would  fill  with  envy  a  king  of 
Saxony — " 

"That  is  the  scene,"  said  Desroches. 

With  this  word,  the  narrator  obtained  the  most 
profound  silence. 

"'Monsieur  le  Comte,'  said  Cerizet,  'I  am  sent 


A  MAN  OF  BUSINESS  301 

by  one    Monsieur    Charles    Claparon,  formerly    a 
banker. ' 

"'Ah!  what  does  he  want  with  me,  the  poor 
devil  ?— ' 

"  'Well,  he  has  become  your  creditor  for  a  sum  of 
three  thousand  two  hundred  francs  seventy-five 
centimes,  in  capital,  interest,  and  costs — ' 

"  'The  Coutelier  claim,'  said  Maxime,  who  knew 
all  about  his  affairs  as  a  pilot  knows  his  coasts. 

"  'Yes,  Monsieur  le  Comte,'  replied  Cerizet  bow- 
ing. '1  have  come  to  know  what  are  your  inten- 
tions ?' 

"  'I  shall  not  settle  this  obligation  until  it  pleases 
me,'  replied  Maxime,  ringing  for  Suzon.  'Claparon 
is  very  daring  to  buy  a  credit  on  me  without  con- 
sulting me!  I  am  vexed  on  his  account,  he  who  for 
so  long  had  so  well  conducted  himself  as  a  man  of 
straiv  for  my  friends.  I  said  of  him  'Truly,  he  must 
be  an  imbecile  to  serve  for  so  little  gain,  and  with  so 
much  fidelity,  men  who  are  stuffed  with  millions.' 
Well,  he  gives  me  here  a  proof  of  his  stupidity. — 
Yes,  men  merit  their  fate!  One  is  fitted  with  a 
crown  or  a  bullet!  one  is  millionaire  or  porter,  and 
everything  is  just.  What  would  you  have,  my  dear 
fellow!  I — I  am  not  a  king,  I  maintain  my  princi- 
ples. I  am  without  pity  for  those  who  make  costs 
for  me  or  who  do  not  know  their  business  of  cred- 
itors.— Suzon,  my  tea ! — You  see,  monsieur  ?'  he  said 
to  the  valet  de  chambre.  'Well,  you  have  let  your- 
self be  taken  in,  you  poor  old  thing.  Monsieur  is  a 
creditor;  you  should  have  recognized  it  by  his  boots. 


302  A  MAN   OF  BUSINESS 

Neither  my  friends,  nor  the  strangers  who  have 
need  of  me,  nor  my  enemies,  come  to  see  me  on  foot. 
— My  dear  Monsieur  Cerizet,  you  understand?  You 
will  not  wipe  your  boots  on  my  carpet  any  more,' 
said  he,  looking  at  the  mud  which  whitened  the 
soles  of  his  adversary.  'You  will  make  my  com' 
pliments  to  this  poor  boniface  of  a  Claparon,  for  I 
will  put  this  affair  in  the  Z. ' 

"All  this  was  said  in  a  tone  of  benevolence  that 
would  have  given  the  colic  to  a  virtuous  bourgeois. 

"'You  are  wrong,  Monsieur  le  Comte,'  replied 
Cerizet,  taking  a  little  peremptory  tone;  'we  will 
be  paid  in  full  and  in  a  manner  which  may  be  some- 
what inconvenient  to  you.  Therefore  I  have  come 
to  see  you  amicably,  as  should  be  done  by  well- 
bred  people.' 

"  'Ah!  you  understand  it  that  way? — '  answered 
Maxime,  whom  this  last  pretension  of  Cerizet 
angered. 

"In  this  insolence  there  was  some  of  Talleyrand's 
spirit,  if  you  see  clearly  the  contrast  between  the 
two  costumes  and  the  two  men.  Maxime  knit  his 
brows  and  fastened  his  looks  upon  the  Cerizet, 
who  not  only  sustained  this  jet  of  cold  rage  but, 
still  more,  who  responded  to  it  by  that  glacial 
malice  which  distils  from  the  fixed  eyes  of  a  cat. 

"  'Very  well,  monsieur,  go — ' 

"  'Very  well;  adieu,  Monsieur  le  Comte.  Before 
the  end  of  six  months,  we  shall  be  even  with  each 
other. ' 

"  'If  you  can  steal  from  me  the  amount  of  your 


A  MAN   OF  BUSINESS  303 

credit,  which  I  recognize  is  legitimate,  I  shall  be 
obliged  to  you,  Monsieur,'  replied  Maxime; 'you 
will  have  taught  me  some  new  precaution  to  take. — 
I  am  truly  your  servant' 

"  'Monsieur  le  Comte,'  said  Cerizet,  'it  is  I  who 
am  yours.' 

"This  was  neat,  full  of  strength  and  of  security 
on  both  sides.  Two  tigers  who  regard  each  other 
before  fighting,  over  some  prey,  would  not  be  finer 
nor  more  wily  than  were  these  two  natures  as 
crafty  one  as  the  other,  one  in  his  impertinent 
elegance,  the  other  in  his  filthy  harness.— Which 
will  you  bet  on? — "  said  Desroches,  who  looked 
at  his  audience  surprised  to  find  themselves  so 
deeply  interested. 

"Well,  that  is  one,  that  is  a  story !—"  said  Mal- 
aga. "Oh !  go  on,  I  beg  you,  my  dear ;  that  goes  to 
my  heart." 

"Between  two  dogs  of  that  strength,  nothing 
common  should  have  happened,"  said  La  Palterine. 

"Bah!  1  will  bet  my  furniture-maker's  bill,  and 
he  worries  me  to  death,  that  the  little  toad  downed 
Maxime,"  cried  Malaga. 

"I  will  bet  on  Maxime,"  said  Cardot;  "no  one 
ever  took  him  napping." 

Desroches  made  a  pause  while  emptying  a  little 
glass  which  was  presented  to  him  by  the  lorette. 

"The  reading-room  of  Mademoiselle  Chocardelle," 
he  resumed,  "was  situated  in  the  Rue  Coquenard, 
two  steps  from  the  Rue  Pigalle,  in  which  Max- 
ime lived.     The  aforesaid  Demoiselle  Chocardelle 


304  A  MAN  OF  BUSINESS 

occupied  a  little  apartment  opening  on  a  garden  and 
separated  from  her  shop  by  a  large  dark  place  in 
which  she  kept  her  books.  Antonia  had  this  estab- 
lishment kept  by  her  aunt — " 

"She  already  had  her  aunt? — "    cried   Malaga. 
"The  devil!  Maxime  managed  things  well." 

"It  was,  alas!  a  real  aunt,"  resumed  Desroches, 
"whose  name  was — wait  a  moment — " 

"Ida  Bonamy — , "  said  Bixiou. 

"Thus,  Antonia  relieved  of  a  great  deal  of  trouble 
by  her  aunt,  rose  late,  went  to  bed  late,  and  only 
appeared  at  her  counter  between  two  and  four 
o'clock,"  resumed  Desroches.  "From  the  very 
first,  her  presence  sufficed  to  bring  customers  to  her 
reading-room;  thither  came  several  old  gentlemen  of 
the  quarter,  among  others  a  former  coach-maker 
named  Croizeau.  After  having  seen  this  miracle 
of  feminine  beauty  through  a  window,  the  former 
coach-maker  concluded  to  read  the  newspapers 
every  day  in  this  salon,  an  example  which  was  fol- 
lowed by  a  former  custom-house  officer,  named 
Denisart,  a  man  with  a  decoration,  in  whom  the 
Croizeau  concluded  to  see  a  rival  and  to  whom  later 
he  said:  'Mosieur,  you  have  certainly  given  me 
a  practical  lesson." 

"This  word  should  enable  you  to  perceive  the 
personage.  The  Sieur  Croizeau  belonged  to  that 
species  of  little  old  men  who,  since  Henry  Mon- 
nier,  have  been  known  as  the  species  Coquerel,  so 
well  has  he  rendered  the  little  voice,  the  little  man- 
ners, the  little  queue,  the  little  powder  in  the  hair, 


A  MAN  OF  BUSINESS  305 

the  little  step,  the  little  movements  of  the  head,  the 
little  dry  tone,  in  his  character  of  Coquerel  of  La 
Famille  Improvis'ee.  This  Croizeau  said:  'Here, 
fair  lady!'  in  passing  his  two  sous  to  Antonia  with 
a  pretentious  gesture.  Madame  Ida  Bonamy,  aunt 
of  Mademoiselle  Chocardelle,  soon  learned  through 
the  cook  that  the  former  coach-maker,  a  man  of 
excessive  ugliness,  was  taxed  at  forty  thousand 
francs  income  in  the  quarter  where  he  lived,  Rue 
de  Buffault  A  week  after  the  installation  of  the 
handsome  circulator  of  romances,  he  was  delivered 
of  this  pun: 

"'You  lend  me  livres,  but  I  return  you  many 
francs — ' 

"Some  days  later  he  assumed  a  knowing  little  air 
to  say : 

"  'I  know  that  you  are  engaged,  but  my  day  will 
come:  I  am  a  widower.' 

"Croizeau  always  appeared  with  beautiful  linen, 
with  a  blue-bottle  colored  coat,  a  waistcoat  in  that 
silk  known  as  pou-de-soie,  black  pantaloons,  double- 
soled  shoes  tied  with  ribbons  of  black  silk  and 
creaking  like  those  of  an  abbe.  He  carried  always 
in  his  hand  his  fourteen-franc  silk  hat. 

"  'I  am  old  and  without  children,'  he  said  to  the 
young  person  some  days  after  the  visit  of  Cerizet 
to  Maxime.  '1  have  a  horror  of  my  collateral  heirs. 
They  are  all  peasants,  made  to  cultivate  the  earth! 
Just  imagine  that  I  came  from  my  village  with  six 
francs,  and  that  I  made  my  fortune  here.  I  am  not 
proud — .  A  pretty  woman  is  my  equal.  Would  it 
20 


306  A  MAN  OF  BUSINESS 

not  be  better  to  be  Madame  Croizeau  for  some  time 
than  to  be  the  servant  of  a  count  during  a  year? — 
You  will  be  left,  some  day  or  other.  And  you 
will  then  think  of  me.     Your  servant,  fair  lady!' 

"All  this  was  managed  very  quietly.  The  very 
slightest  gallantries  are  uttered  secretly.  No  one 
in  the  world  knew  that  this  spruce  little  old  man 
loved  Antonia,  for  the  prudent  countenance  of  this 
lover  in  the  reading-room  would  have  conveyed 
nothing  to  a  rival.  Croizeau  was  suspicious  for  a 
couple  of  months  of  the  retired  director  of  customs. 
But  towards  the  middle  of  the  third  month  he  had 
grounds  for  recognizing  the  very  slight  foundations 
of  the  suspicions.  Croizeau  exercised  his  ingen- 
uity in  keeping  near  to  Denisart  when  in  his  com- 
pany, then,  taking  his  opportunity,  he  said  to  him: 
"  'It  is  fine  weather,  Mosieur: — ' 
"To  which  the  former  functionary  replied: 
"'The  weather  of  Austerlitz,  Monsieur:  I  was 
there — ,  I  was  even  wounded  there ;  my  cross  is 
because  of  my  conduct  on  that  fine  day — ' 

"And,  insensibly,  from  one  thing  to  another, 
step  by  step,  through  little  confidences,  an  in- 
timacy was  developed  between  these  two  relics 
of  the  Empire.  The  little  Croizeau  was  con- 
nected with  the  Empire  by  his  intimacy  with  the 
sisters  of  Napoleon, — he  had  been  their  carriage- 
maker,  and  he  had  often  tormented  them  by  his  bills. 
He  therefore  gave  himself  out  as  having  had  relations 
with  the  imperial  family.  Maxime,  informed  by 
Antonia  of  the  propositions  offered  by  the  agreeable 


A  MAN   OF  BUSINESS  307 

old  man,  for  such  was  the  title  given  by  the 
aunt  to  the  rentier,  wished  to  see  him.  The  declar- 
ation of  war  made  by  Cerizet  had  had  the  effect  of 
making  this  fine  gentleman  in  yellow  gloves  study 
his  position  on  his  chess-board  and  observe  the  least 
important  pieces.  Now,  apropos  of  this  agreeable 
old  gentleman,  he  received  the  understanding  that 
stroke  of  the  clock  which  announces  to  you  a  misfor- 
tune. One  evening,  Maxime  placed  himself  in  the 
second  dusky  apartment,  around  which  were  ar- 
ranged the  shelves  of  the  library.  After  having 
examined  by  an  opening  between  two  green  curtains 
the  seven  or  eight  habituej  of  the  salon,  he  gauged 
with  a  look  the  soul  of  the  little  carriage-maker;  he 
appraised  his  passion,  and  was  very  well  satisfied 
to  know  that,  at  the  moment  when  his  fancy  should 
be  over,  a  sufficiently  sumptuous  future  would  open 
at  command  its  varnished  portals  to  Antonia. 

"  'And  that  one,'  he  said,  indicating  the  fine,  large 
old  man  decorated  with  the  Legion  of  Honor;  'who 
is  he  ?' 

"  'A  former  director  of  customs.' 

"  'He  has  a  disquieting  appearance !'  said  Maxime, 
admiring  the  style  of  the  Sieur  Denisart. 

"In  fact,  this  old  soldier  held  himself  straight  as 
a  steeple;  his  head  attracted  attention  by  its  pow- 
dered and  pomaded  arrangement,  almost  similar  to 
that  of  the  postilions  of  a  masked  ball.  Under  this 
species  of  felt,  modeled  on  an  oblong  head  was 
presented  an  old  countenance,  administrative  and 
military  both  at  once,  marked  by  a  proud  air,  similar 


308  A  MAN  OF  BUSINESS 

enough  to  that  which  caricature  has  lent  to  the 
Constitutionnel.  This  former  administrator,  of  an 
age,  of  a  quality,  of  a  curve  of  the  back  which  per- 
mitted him  to  read  nothing  without  glasses,  main- 
tained his  respectable  abdomen  with  all  the  pride 
of  an  old  man  with  a  mistress,  and  wore  in  his  ears 
gold  rings  which  recalled  those  of  the  old  General 
Montcornet,  the  habitue  of  the  Vaudeville.  Denisart 
held  blue  in  favor, — his  pantaloons  and  his  old 
frock-coat,  very  full,  were  of  blue  cloth. 

"'How  long  has  that  old  fellow  been  coming 
here  ?'  asked  Maxime,  to  whom  the  glasses  appeared 
to  have  a  suspicious  aspect. 

"'Oh!  from  the  commencement,'  replied  An- 
tonia.     'It  is  now  nearly  two  months — ' 

"  'Good;  Cerizet  came  only  about  a  month  ago,' 
said  Maxime  to  himself. — 'Make  him  speak,'  he 
said  in  Antonia's  ear;  'I  wish  to  hear  his  voice.' 

"'Bah!'  she  replied,  'that  would  be  difficult;  he 
never  says  anything  to  me.' 

"  'Why  does  he  come,  then? — '  asked  Maxime. 

"  'For  a  queer  enough  reason,'  replied  the  beau- 
tiful Antonia.  'In  the  first  place,  he  has  a  passion, 
notwithstanding  his  sixty-nine  years;  but,  because 
of  his  sixty-nine  years,  he  is  regulated  like  a  clock- 
dial.  This  good  man  there  goes  to  dine  with  his 
passion,  Rue  de  la  Victoire,  at  five  o'clock  every 
day. — There  is  an  unlucky  woman!  He  leaves  her 
house  at  six  o'clock,  comes  to  read  the  newspapers 
for  four  hours,  and  returns  there  at  ten  o'clock. 
The  papa  Croizeau  says  he  is  acquainted  with  the 


A  MAN   OF  BUSINESS  309 

motives  of  Monsieur's  conduct;  he  approves  them; 
and,  in  his  place,  he  would  act  the  same  way. 
Thus,  I  know  my  future!  If  ever  I  become  Madame 
Croizeau,  from  six  to  ten  o'clock  I  shall  be  free.' 

"Maxime  consulted  the  Almanack  des  25,000 
adresses ;  he  found  there  this  reassuring  line: 

"  'DENISART  *,  former  director  of  customs,  Rue 
de  la  Victoire. 

"There  was  no  further  uneasiness.  By  degrees, 
there  were  established  between  Monsieur  Denisart 
and  the  Sieur  Croizeau  certain  confidences.  Noth- 
ing unites  men  more  than  a  certain  conformity  of 
views  respecting  women.  Papa  Croizeau  dined  in 
the  house  of  her  whom  he  called  La  Belle  de  Mon- 
sieur Denisart.  Here  I  should  insert  a  sufficiently 
important  observation.  The  reading-room  had  been 
purchased  by  the  count  for  a  sum,  half  cash  down 
and  half  in  notes  signed  by  the  aforesaid  Demoiselle 
Chocardelle.  Rabelais'  quart  d'heure  arrived,  the 
count  found  himself  without  funds.  Whereupon, 
the  first  of  the  three  notes  of  a  thousand  francs 
was  paid  in  full  by  the  agreeable  coach-maker,  whom 
the  old  scoundrel  of  a  Denisart  counseled  to  secure 
his  loan  by  establishing  for  himself  certain  advan- 
tages of  a  privileged  creditor  upon  the  reading-room. 

"'I,'  said  Denisart,  'I  have  seen  some  beauties 
among  the  fair  sex! — Thus,  in  every  case,  even 
when  I  have  no  longer  my  head  about  me,  I 
always  take  my   precautions  with  women.      This 


310  A  MAN  OF  BUSINESS 

creature  for  whom  I  am  so  crazy,  well,  she  is  not  in 
her  own  furniture ;  she  is  in  mine.  The  lease  of  the 
apartment  is  in  my  name — ' 

"You  know  Maxime;  he  thought  that  the  coach- 
maker  was  very  young!  The  Croizeau  could  pay 
the  three  thousand  francs  without  having  anything 
to  show  for  it  for  a  long  time,  for  Maxime  found 
himself  more  enamored  than  ever  of  Antonia — " 

"I  can  well  believe  it,"  said  La  Palferine;  "she 
is  the  Belle  Imperia  of  the  Middle  Ages." 

"A  woman  who  has  a  rough  skin!"  cried  the  lor- 
ette,  "and  so  rough  that  she  ruins  herself  in  bran 
baths." 

"Croizeau  spoke  with  a  coach-maker's  admiration 
of  the  sumptuous  furnishing  which  the  amorous 
Denisart  had  given  for  a  setting-off  to  his  Belle;  he 
described  it  with  a  satanic  complacency  to  the  am- 
bitious Antonia,"  resumed  Desroches.  "There 
were  coffers  of  ebony  inlaid  with  mother-of-pearl 
and  gold  wire,  Belgian  carpets,  a  mediaeval  bed  of 
the  value  of  a  thousand  ecus,  a  clock  by  Boulle ;  then, 
in  the  dining-room,  candelabra  at  the  four  corners, 
curtains  of  China  silk  on  which  Chinese  patience 
had  painted  birds,  and  portieres  suspended  from 
cross-pieces  much  more  valuable  than  the  divided 
portieres. 

"  'See  what  you  should  have,  fair  lady — ,  and 
what  I  should  be  willing  to  offer  you — , '  said  he  in 
conclusion.  'I  know  very  well  that  you  would  love 
me  tolerably  well;  but,  at  my  age,  one  is  reason- 
able.    You  may  judge  how  much  I  love  you,  since 


A  MAN   OF  BUSINESS  311 

I  have  lent  you  a  thousand  francs.  I  can  admit  it 
to  you:  in  all  my  life  nor  in  my  days  have  I  ever 
lent  so  much!' 

"And  he  tendered  the  two  sous  of  his  sitting 
with  the  importance  which  a  scientist  attaches  to  a 
demonstration. 

"That  evening,  Antonia  said  to  the  count,  at  the 
Varietes: 

"  'It  is  pretty  stupid  all  the  same,  a  reading-room. 
I  don't  feel  any  inclination  for  that  sort  of  a  busi- 
ness; I  don't  see  any  chance  of  fortune  in  that 
That  is  something  for  a  widow  who  just  wishes  to 
keep  life  together,  or  for  a  young  woman  who  is 
atrociously  ugly  and  who  thinks  she  may  catch  a 
man  by  dressing  a  little.' 

"'That  is  what  you  asked  of  me,'  replied  the 
count. 

"At  this  moment,  Nucingen,  whom,  from  the 
evening  before,  the  king  of  the  Lions,  for  the  yellow 
gloves  had  then  become  lions,  had  won  a  thousand 
ecus,  came  in  to  give  them  to  him,  and  seeing  the 
astonishment  of  Maxime,  he  said  to  him  : 

"'I  haf  receivet  a  brotest  at  the  reguest  of  dat 
tevil  of  a  Glabaron — ' 

"  'Ah!  that's  their  method!'  cried  Maxime; 'they 
are  not  very  clever,  that  lot — ' 

"  'All  de  zame,'  replied  the  banker,  'bay  dem,  for 
dey  can  attress  demselves  to  others  dan  myself  and 
but  you  in  de  wrong — .  I  dake  for  widness  dis 
preddy  voman  dat  I  have  baid  you  dis  morning,  even 
bevore  de  brotest —  ' 


312  A  MAN  OF  BUSINESS 

"Queen  of  the  spring-board,"  said  La  Palferine, 
smiling.    "You  will  lose—" 

"It  has  long  happened,"  resumed  Desroches, 
"that,  in  a  similar  case,  but  where  the  too  honest 
debtor,  frightened  at  having  to  make  an  affirmation 
in  the  courts  of  justice,  did  not  wish  to  pay  Maxime, 
we  had  roughly  dragged  in  the  protesting  creditor  by 
opposing  protests  en  masse,  so  as  to  absorb  the 
whole  amount  in  expenses  of  contribution — " 

"What's  all  that?"— cried  Malaga.  "Here  are  a  lot 
of  words  which  sound  to  me  like  gibberish.  Since 
you  have  found  the  sturgeon  excellent,  pay  me  the 
value  of  the  sauce  in  lessons  in  trickery." 

"Well,"  said  Desroches,  "the  amount  which  one 
of  your  creditors  covers  with  a  protest  in  the  hands 
of  one  of  your  debtors  may  become  the  object  of  a 
similar  protest  on  the  part  of  all  your  other  cred- 
itors. What,  then,  does  the  court,  of  whom  all  the 
creditors  demand  the  authorization  to  be  paid? — It 
divides  legally  the  sum  seized  among  them  all. 
This  division,  made  under  the  eye  of  justice,  is 
called  a  contribution.  If  you  owe  ten  thousand 
francs,  and  if  your  creditors  seize  by  protest  a  thous- 
and francs,  they  have  each  so  much  per  cent  of  their 
claim,  by  means  of  a  repartition  an  marc  le  franc, 
according  to  the  terms  of  the  Palais,  that  is  to  say, 
in  a  distribution  pro  rata  of  their  amounts;  but  they 
only  receive  this  by  means  of  a  legal  paper  called  an 
Extrait  du  Bordereau  de  Collocation,  which  is  deliv- 
ered by  the  clerk  of  the  court.  You  can  imagine 
this  work  accomplished  by  a  judge  and  prepared  by 


A  MAN  OF  BUSINESS  313 

the  advocates?  it  involves  a  great  deal  of  stamped 
paper  covered  with  empty  and  scattered  lines,  in 
which  the  figures  are  lost  in  columns  of  entire  empti- 
ness. The  first  thing  to  do  is  to  deduct  the  cost. 
Now,  the  cost  being  the  same  for  a  sum  of  a  thous- 
and francs  seized  and  for  a  sum  of  a  million,  it  is 
not  difficult  to  eat  up  a  thousand  ecus,  for  instance, 
in  costs,  especially  if  one  succeeds  in  stirring  up 
contestants." 

"An  advocate  always  succeeds,"  said  Cardot; 
"how  many  times  has  one  of  yours  asked  me:  'How 
much  is  there  to  get?'  " 

"They  succeed  above  all,"  resumed  Desroches, 
"when  the  debtor  provokes  you  to  eat  up  the  sum 
in  costs.  Thus  the  count's  creditors  got  nothing; 
they  had  only  their  running  about  to  the  advocates 
and  their  efforts.  In  order  to  be  paid  by  a  debtor 
as  clever  as  the  count,  a  creditor  would  be  obliged 
to  put  himself  in  a  legal  situation  excessively  diffi- 
cult to  establish, — he  would  have  to  be  at  once  his 
debtor  and  his  creditor,  for  then  one  has  the  right, 
according  to  the  law,  to  bring  about  the  confu- 
sion— " 

"Of  the  debtor?"  said  the  lorette,  who  lent  an 
attentive  ear  to  this  discourse. 

"No,  of  the  two  qualities  of  creditor  and  debtor, 
and  pay  one's  self  by  his  hands,"  resumed  Des- 
roches. "The  innocence  of  Claparon,  who  had 
only  invented  protests,  had  therefore  the  effect  of 
tranquillizing  the  count.  In  taking  Antonia  home 
from  the  Varietes,  he  adopted  the  more  readily  the 


314  A  MAN  OF  BUSINESS 

idea  of  selling  the  reading-room  in  order  to  pay  off 
the  last  two  thousand  francs  of  the  price,  for  he 
feared  the  ridicule  of  being  known  as  the  silent 
partner  in  such  an  enterprise.  He  therefore  accepted 
the  plan  of  Antonia,  who  wished  to  enter  the  upper 
sphere  of  her  profession,  to  have  a  magnificent 
apartment,  a  femme  de  chambre,  a  carriage,  and  to 
enter  the  lists  with  our  beautiful  amphitryon,  for 
example — " 

"She  is  not  well  enough  made  for  that,"  cried  the 
illustrious  beauty  of  the  Cirque;  "but  she  well 
rinsed  out  the  little  d'Esgrignon  all  the  same!" 

"Ten  days  later,  the  little  Croizeau,  perched  upon 
his  dignity,  used  something  like  this  language  to  the 
beautiful  Antonia,"  resumed  Desroches: 

"  'My  child,  your  literary  shop  is  a  hole,  you  are 
becoming  yellow  in  it,  the  gas  will  ruin  your  eyes; 
you  should  get  out  of  it,  and  here,  now !  let  us  profit 
by  the  occasion.  I  have  found  for  you  a  young 
woman  who  asks  nothing  better  than  to  purchase 
your  reading-room.  She  is  a  little  woman,  quite 
ruined,  who  has  nothing  left  but  to  throw  herself  in 
the  river;  but  she  has  four  thousand  francs  in  cash, 
and  it  would  be  better  to  make  use  of  them  to  nour- 
ish and  bring  up  two  children — ' 

"  'Well,  you  are  very  amiable,  Papa  Croizeau'  " 
said  Antonia. 

"  'Oh!  I  shall  be  much  more  amiable  presently,' 
replied  the  old  coach-maker.  'Just  imagine,  that 
that  poor  Monsieur  Denisart  has  been  so  upset  that  it 
has    given    him    the    jaundice — .     Yes,    that    has 


A  MAN  OF  BUSINESS  315 

affected  his  liver,  as  is  always  the  case  with  sensi- 
tive old  men.  He  was  wrong  to  be  so  sensitive.  I 
said  to  him:  'Be  passionate  if  you  like,  good! 
but  sensitive, — stop  there!  one  kills  one's  self — . ' 
I  did  not  expect  it,  really,  such  an  upsetting  in  a 
man  sufficiently  strong,  sufficiently  wise  to  absent 
himself  while  he  was  digesting  from  the  house 
of—' 

"  'But  who  is  it?' — asked  Mademoiselle  Chocar- 
delle. 

"  'That  little  creature  with  whom  I  dined  left  him 
in  the  lurch,  clean — .  Yes,  she  forsook  him  without 
notifying  him  in  any  other  way  than  by  a  letter 
without  any  spelling  in  it' 

"  'See  what  it  is,  Papa  Croizeau,  to  bore  the 
women! — ' 

"  'It  is  a  lesson!  fair  lady,'  replied  the  affection- 
ate Croizeau.  'Meanwhile,  I  have  never  seen  a  man 
in  such  a  state  of  despair, '  said  he.  'Our  friend 
Denisart  can  no  longer  tell  his  right  hand  from  his 
left;  he  no  longer  wishes  to  see  that  which  he  calls 
the  theatre  of  his  happiness—.  He  has  so  com- 
pletely lost  his  senses,  that  he  proposed  to  me  to 
buy  for  four  thousand  francs  all  the  furniture  of 
Hortense — .     Her  name  is  Hortense!' 

"  'A  pretty  name,'  said  Antonia. 

"  'Yes,  it  was  that  of  the  step-daughter  of  Napo- 
leon.    I  furnished  her  her  equipages,  as  you  know.' 

"  'Well,  come,  I  will  see, '  said  the  clever  Antonia ; 
'begin  by  sending  me  your  young  woman — ' 

"Antonia  hastened  to  see  the  furniture,  returned 


316  A  MAN  OF  BUSINESS 

fascinated,  and  captivated  Maxime  by  an  enthusiasm 
worthy  of  an  antiquary.  That  very  evening  the 
count  consented  to  the  sale  of  the  reading-room. 
The  establishment,  you  understand,  was  in  the 
name  of  Mademoiselle  Chocardelle.  Maxime  laughed 
at  the  little  Croizeau,  who  found  him  a  pur- 
chaser. The  firm  of  Maxime  and  Chocardelle  lost 
two  thousand  francs,  it  is  true,  but  what  was  this  loss 
in  presence  of  four  beautiful  notes  of  a  thousand 
francs  each  ? — as  the  count  said  to  me : 

"  'Four  thousand  francs  cash  in  hand! — there  are 
moments  when  one  would  sign  eight  thousand  francs 
of  notes  to  have  them !' 

"The  count  went  to  see  the  furniture  himself,  on 
the  third  day,  having  the  four  thousand  francs  about 
him.  The  sale  had  been  consummated,  thanks  to 
the  diligence  of  the  little  Croizeau,  who  pushed  at 
the  wheel ;  he  had  enclaiide  the  widow,  as  he  said. 
Concerning  himself  but  little  with  this  agreeable 
old  gentleman,  who  was  going  to  lose  a  thousand 
francs,  Maxime  wished  to  have  all  the  furniture 
carried  immediately  to  an  apartment  taken  in  the 
name  of  Madame  Ida  Bonamy,  Rue  Tronchet,  in  a 
new  house.  Thus  he  had  furnished  himself  in  ad- 
vance with  several  large  furniture  vans.  Maxime, 
enamored  anew  of  the  beauty  of  the  furniture,  which, 
for  an  upholsterer,  would  have  been  worth  six  thous- 
and francs,  found  the  unhappy  old  man,  yellow 
with  his  jaundice,  at  the  corner  of  the  fire,  his  head 
enveloped  in  two  handkerchiefs  and  a  cotton  night- 
cap over  all,  muffled  up  like  a  chandelier;  collapsed, 


A   MAN   OF  BUSINESS  317 

not  able  to  speak,  in  short,  so  dilapidated  that  the 
count  was  forced  to  negotiate  with  the  valet  de 
chambre.  After  having  paid  over  the  four  thousand 
francs  to  the  valet  de  chambre,  who  carried  them  to 
his  master  so  that  he  might  give  a  receipt  for  them, 
Maxime  was  about  to  order  his  people  to  bring  up 
the  furniture  vans;  but  he  heard  at  that  moment  a 
voice  which  sounded  in  his  ears  like  a  rattle,  and 
which  cried  to  him  : 

"  'It  is  unnecessary,  Monsieur  le  Comte;  we  are 
even ;  I  have  six  hundred  and  thirty  francs  and  fif- 
teen centimes  to  hand  over  to  you !' 

"And  he  was  quite  aghast  to  see  Cerizet  issue 
from  his  wrappings,  like  a  butterfly  from  his  larva, 
offering  to  him  his  cursed  bundle  of  papers,  and 
adding: 

"'In  my  misfortune  I  learned  to  play  comedy, 
and  I  can  equal  Bouffe  in  the  old  men.' 

" 'I  am  in  the  forest  of  Bondy!'   cried  Maxime. 

"  'No,  Monsieur  le  Comte,  you  are  in  the  house  of 
Mademoiselle  Hortense,  the  friend  of  the  old  Lord 
Dudley,  who  concealed  her  from  everybody;  but  she 
has  the  bad  taste  to  love  your  servant. ' 

"  'If  ever,'  said  the  count  to  me,  'I  had  a  desire  to 
kill  a  man,  it  was  at  that  moment;  but  what  would 
you  have !  Hortense  showed  me  her  pretty  head ;  it 
was  necessary  to  laugh,  and  to  preserve  my  super- 
iority. I  said  to  him,  throwing  him  the  six  hundred 
francs:     'This  is  for  the  lady.' 

"'That  is  just  like  Maxime!'  cried  La  Pal- 
ferine. 


'■/,„,,.,/,/../  /■•  ■■ 


IN  THE  RUE  DE  LA    VICTOIRE 


Gazonal  gave  his  hand  to  the  actress  down  to  the 
closed  carriage  which  was  waiting  for  her,  and  he 
pressed  it  so  tenderly  that  Jennie  Cadine  replied, 
shaking  her  fingers : 

"Eh,  I  have  no  spare  ones/" 

When  they  were  in  the  carriage,  Gazonal  under- 
took to  take  Bixiou  by  the  waist,  exclaiming : 

"She  has  bitten! —      Yon  are  a  fine  scoundrel — " 


TO  MONSIEUR  LE  COMTE  JULES  T>E  CASTELLANE 


21  (321) 


THE  INVOLUNTARY  COMEDIANS 


Leon  de  Lora,  our  celebrated  landscape  painter, 
is  a  member  of  one  of  the  most  noble  families  of 
Roussillon,  Spanish  in  origin,  and  which,  admirable 
as  it  is  by  the  antiquity  of  the  race,  has  for  the  last 
hundred  years  been  devoted  to  the  proverbial  poverty 
of  the  Hidalgoes.  Arrived  light-footed  in  Paris  from 
the  department  of  the  Pyrenees-Orientales,  with  the 
sum  of  eleven  francs  for  his  entire  viaticum,  he  had 
there,  in  some  measure,  forgotten  the  sorrows  of 
his  childhood  and  of  his  family  in  the  midst  of  the 
miseries  which  are  never  lacking  to  the  struggling 
students  of  painting,  whose  entire  fortune  consists 
in  an  intrepid  vocation.  Then  the  cares  of  glory 
and  those  of  success  furnished  additional  causes  for 
forgetful  ness. 

If  you  have  followed  the  sinuous  and  capricious 
course  of  these  Studies,  perhaps  you  will  remember 
Mistigris,  pupil  of  Schinner,  one  of  the  heroes  of  A 
Start  in  Life— SCENES  OF  PRIVATE  LIFE— and  his 
appearances  in  some  other  Scenes.  In  1845,  the 
landscape  painter,  emulous  of  the  Hobbemas,  of  the 
Ruysdaels,  of  the  Lorrains,  no  longer  resembles  the 

(323) 


324  THE   INVOLUNTARY  COMEDIANS 

denuded  and  brisk  rapin  whom  you  have  seen  above. 
An  illustrious  man,  he  now  possesses  a  charming 
house  in  the  Rue  de  Berlin,  not  far  from  the  Hotel  de 
Brambourg,  in  which  dwells  his  friend  Bridau,  and 
near  the  house  of  Schinner,  his  first  master.  He  is  a 
member  of  the  Institute  and  an  officer  of  the  Legion  of 
Honor;  he  is  thirty-nine,  he  has  an  income  of 
twenty  thousand  francs,  his  canvases  are  purchased 
at  their  weight  in  gold,  and,  that  which  seems  to 
him  more  extraordinary  than  to  be  invited  some- 
times to  the  Court  balls,  his  name,  thrown  so  often 
for  the  last  sixteen  years  by  the  press  to  the  winds 
of  all  Europe,  has  finally  penetrated  into  the  valley 
of  the  Pyrenees-Orientales,  where  vegetate  three 
veritable  Loras,  his  eldest  brother,  his  father  and  an 
old  paternal  aunt,  Mademoiselle  Urraca  y  Lora. 

In  the  maternal  line,  there  remained  to  the  painter 
only  a  cousin,  a  nephew  of  his  mother,  of  the 
age  of  fifty,  the  inhabitant  of  a  little  manufacturing 
city  of  the  department.  This  cousin  was  the  first 
to  remember  Leon.  In  1840,  for  the  first  time,  Leon 
de  Lora  received  a  letter  from  Monsieur  Sylvestre 
Palafox-Castel  Gazonal,  known  simply  as  Gazonal, 
to  which  he  replied  that  it  was  indeed  he,  that  is  to 
say,  the  son  of  the  late  Leonie  Gazonal,  wife  of  the 
Comte  Fernand  Didas  y  Lora. 

The  cousin,  Sylvestre  Gazonal,  went  in  the  fine 
season  of  1841  to  inform  the  illustrious  unknown 
family  of  the  Loras  that  the  little  Leon  had  not 
departed  for  the  Rio  de  la  Plata,  as  they  believed; 
that  he  was  not  dead,  as  they  believed,  and  that  he 


THE   INVOLUNTARY  COMEDIANS  325 

was  one  of  the  finest  geniuses  of  the  French  School, 
which  they  did  not  believe.  The  eldest  son,  Don 
Juan  de  Lora,  said  to  his  cousin  Gazonal  that  he 
was  the  victim  of  some  joker  in  Paris. 

Now,  the  said  Gazonal  proposing  to  go  to  Paris  in 
order  to  follow  up  a  legal  process  which,  through  a 
contest,  the  prefect  of  the  Pyrenees-Orientales  had 
wrested  from  the  ordinary  jurisdiction  of  the 
province  to  carry  it  up  to  the  Council  of  State,  the 
provincial  promised  himself  to  clear  up  the  matter 
and  to  demand  a  reason  for  his  impertinence  from 
the  Parisian  painter.  It  happened  that  Monsieur 
Gazonal,  putting  up  in  a  poor  lodging  in  the  Rue 
Croix-des-Petits-Champs,  was  astonished  to  see  the 
palace  in  the  Rue  de  Berlin.  When  he  learned  that 
the  master  was  traveling  in  Italy,  he  renounced  for 
the  moment  his  demanding  reason,  and  doubted  if 
his  maternal  relationship  would  be  recognized  by 
the  celebrated  man. 

From  1843  to  1844  Gazonal  followed  his  lawsuit. 
This  contest,  which  related  to  a  question  of  the 
course  and  of  the  height  of  the  water,  of  the  erection 
of  a  dam,  in  which  the  administration  was  inter- 
ested, sustained  by  the  dwellers  on  the  banks  of  the 
river,  menaced  the  very  existence  of  the  manufac- 
tory. In  1845,  Gazonal  considered  this  case  as 
entirely  lost,  the  secretary  of  the  Maitre  des  Re- 
queues charged  with  making  the  report  having  con- 
fided to  him  that  this  report  would  be  opposed  to  his 
contentions,  and  his  advocate  having  confirmed  it  to 
him.     Gazonal,  though  commandant  in  the  National 


326  THE   INVOLUNTARY  COMEDIANS 

Guard  of  his  city  and  one  of  the  most  skilful  manu- 
facturers of  his  department,  found  so  little  in  Paris, 
he  was  so  dismayed  at  the  dearness  of  living  and  at 
the  least  trifles,  that  he  kept  himself  secluded  in  his 
poor  little  hotel.  This  Southerner,  deprived  of  his 
sun,  execrated  Paris,  which  he  denominated  a  man- 
ufactory of  rheumatisms.  In  counting  up  the 
expenses  of  his  lawsuit  and  of  his  sojourn,  he  prom- 
ised himself  that,  when  he  returned,  he  would  either 
poison  the  prefect  or  he  would  make  a  cuckold  of 
him!  In  his  moments  of  sadness  he  killed  the  pre- 
fect; in  his  moments  of  gayety,  he  contented  him- 
self with  minotaurising  him. 

One  morning,  at  the  end  of  his  dejeuner,  fuming 
and  swearing,  he  took  up  furiously  his  newspaper. 
These  lines,  which  terminated  an  article,  "Our 
great  landscape  painter,  Leon  de  Lora,  who  returned 
from  Italy  a  month  ago,  will  exhibit  several  canvases 
at  the  Salon;  thus  the  exposition  will  be,  as  may 
be  seen,  very  brilliant, — "  struck  Gazonal  as  if  that 
voice  which  speaks  to  gamblers  when  they  win  had 
sounded  in  his  ear.  With  that  promptness  of  action 
which  distinguishes  the  people  of  the  South,  Ga- 
zonal leaped  from  the  hotel  into  the  street,  from  the 
street  into  a  cabriolet,  and  went  to  the  Rue  de  Ber- 
lin, to  see  his  cousin. 

Leon  de  Lora  sent  word  to  his  cousin  Gazonal 
that  he  invited  him  to  dejeuner  at  the  Cafe  de  Paris 
for  the  next  day,  for  he  was  at  that  moment  occu- 
pied in  such  a  manner  that  it  would  be  impossible 
for  him  to  receive  him.     Gazonal,  like  a  true  man 


THE   INVOLUNTARY  COMEDIANS  327 

of  the  South,  related  all  his  troubles  to  the  valet  de 
chambre. 

The  next  morning,  at  ten  o'clock,  Gazonal,  too 
well  arrayed  for  the  occasion — he  had  put  on  his 
blue-bottle  coat  with  gilded  buttons,  a  shirt  with 
a  jabot,  a  white  vest  and  yellow  gloves — waited  for 
his  amphitryon  while  walking  up  and  down  for  an 
hour  on  the  boulevard,  after  having  learned  from  the 
cafetier — title  of  the  cafe  proprietors  in  the  prov- 
inces— that  these  messieurs  usually  breakfasted 
between  eleven  o'clock  and  noon. 

"About  half-past  eleven,  two  Parisians,  like 
simple  priests,"  he  said,  when  he  afterwards  related 
his  adventures  to  those  of  his  locality,  "and  who 
had  a  general  air  of  nothing  at  all,  exclaimed  on 
seeing  me  on  the  boulevard:  'Behold  thy  Ga- 
zonal!—" 

This  speaker  was  Bixiou,  with  whom  Leon  de 
Lora  had  provided  himself  to  mystify  his  cousin. 

"  'Do  not  disturb  yourself,  my  dear  cousin!  I  am 
yours,'  cried  the  little  Leon,  clasping  me  in  his 
arms,"  said  Gazonal  to  his  friends  on  his  return. 
"The  dejeuner  was  splendid.  And  1  thought  I  saw 
double  when  I  saw  the  number  of  gold  pieces  that  it 
took  to  pay  the  bill.  Those  people  must  make  their 
weight  in  gold,  for  my  cousin  gave  thirty  sols  to  the 
waiter,  a  day's  wages." 

During  this  monstrous  breakfast,  seeing  that 
there  were  then  consumed  six  dozen  Ostende  oys- 
ters, six  cutlets  a  la  Soubise,  a  chicken  a  la  Marengo, 
a   lobster   mayonnaise,    fresh   peas,    a   croute   aux 


328  THE   INVOLUNTARY  COMEDIANS 

champignons,  washed  down  with  three  bottles  of  Bor- 
deaux, three  bottles  of  champagne,  plus  the  black 
coffee,  the  liqueurs,  without  counting  the  hors- 
d'oeuvre,  Gazonal  was  magnificent  in  his  fury 
against  Paris.  The  noble  manufacturer  complained 
of  the  length  of  the  four-pound  loaves,  of  the  height 
of  the  houses,  of  the  indifference  of  the  passers-by  for 
each  other,  of  the  cold  and  of  the  rain,  of  the  dearness 
of  the  hackney-coaches,  and  all  that  so  cleverly, 
that  the  two  artists  conceived  a  lively  friendship 
for  Gazonal  and  got  him  to  describe  his  lawsuit. 

"My  suit,"  said  he,  using  his  r's  thickly  and  ac- 
centing everything  provincially,  "is  something  very 
simple :  they  want  my  manufactory.  I  find  here  a 
beast  of  an  advocate  to  whom  I  give  twenty  francs 
each  time  to  keep  his  eye  open,  and  I  always  find 
him  asleep.  — It  is  a  snail  which  rolls  in  its  carrriage 
and  I  go  on  foot.  They  trrick  me  shamefully;  I  do 
nothing  but  run  from  one  to  the  other,  and  I  see  that 
I  shall  have  to  take  a  carrriage — .No  one  pays  atten- 
tion here  but  to  the  people  who  hide  themselves  in 
their  carrriages! — On  the  other  hand,  the  Council  of 
State  is  a  pile  of  drones  who  let  their  work  be  done 
by  some  little  scamps  who  are  bribed  by  our  prre- 
fect — .  There  is  my  case ! — They  want  to  get  it,  my 
manufactory;  very  well,  they  shall  have  it! — and 
they  may  come  to  terms  with  my  workmen,  of  whom 
there  are  a  hundred,  and  who  will  make  them 
change  their  mind  with  a  cudgel — " 

"Come,  cousin,"  said  the  landscapist,  "how  long 
hast  thou  been  here?" 


THE   INVOLUNTARY  COMEDIANS  329 

"Since  two  years! — Ah!  this  business  of  the  pre- 
fect; he  will  pay  dear  for  it;  1  will  take  his  life  and 
I  will  give  mine  at  the  Court  of  Assizes — " 

"Who  is  the  Councilor  of  State  who  presides  in 
that  section  ?" 

"A  former  journalist,  who  is  not  worth  ten  sols, 
and  who  calls  himself  Massol !" 

The  two  Parisians  looked  at  each  other. 

"The  Rapporteur? — " 

"Still  bigger  rogue!  he  is  a  Maitre  des  Requetes, 
prrofessor  of  something  or  other  at  the  Sorbonne, 
who  has  written  something  in  a  review,  and  for 
whom  I  prrofess  a  disesteem  the  most  prrofound — " 

"Claude  Vignon?"  said  Bixiou. 

"That  is  he, — "  replied  the  Southerner;  "Massol 
and  Vignon ;  there  you  have  the  social  rright,  with- 
out rright,  the  Trestaillons  of  my  prrefect. " 

"There  is  some  remedy,"  said  Leon  de  Lora. 
"Seest  thou,  cousin,  everything  is  possible  in 
Paris,  in  good  as  in  evil,  just  and  unjust.  Every- 
thing is  done  there,  everything  is  undone  there, 
everything  is  done  over  again  there." 

"To  the  devil  if  I  stay  ten  seconds  longer — ;  it  is 
the  most  tedious  place  in  Frrance. " 

At  this  moment  the  two  cousins  and  Bixiou  were 
promenading  from  one  end  to  the  other  of  that  patch 
of  asphalt  on  which,  between  one  and  two  o'clock, 
it  is  difficult  not  to  see  passing  some  of  those  per- 
sonages for  whom  Fame  puts  to  her  mouth  one  or 
the  other  of  her  trumpets.  Formerly,  it  was  the 
Place  Royale,  then  the  Pont  Neuf,  which  enjoyed 


330  THE    INVOLUNTARY  COMEDIANS 

this  privilege,  acquired  to-day  by  the  Boulevard  des 
Italiens. 

"Paris,  "said  the  landscape  painter  to  his  cousin, 
"is  an  instrument  on  which  it  is  necessary  to  know 
how  to  play;  and,  if  we  remain  here  ten  minutes  I 
will  give  you  a  lesson.  There,  now,  look,"  said  he 
to  him,  lifting  his  cane,  designating  a  couple  who 
came  out  of  the  Passage  de  POpera. 

"What  is  that?"  asked  Gazonal. 

That  was  an  old  woman  with  a  bonnet  which  had 
remained  six  months  in  stock,  with  a  very  preten- 
tious gown,  a  shawl  in  faded  plaid,  who  had  evi- 
dently lived  for  twenty  years  in  a  damp  lodge, 
whose  greatly  dilated  cabas  announced  a  social 
position  no  higher  than  that  of  an  ex-portress;  next 
a  young  girl,  slender  and  thin,  whose  eyes,  edged 
with  black  lashes,  no  longer  showed  innocence, 
whose  complexion  betrayed  much  weariness,  but 
whose  face,  of  a  pretty  outline,  was  fresh,  and 
whose  hair  should  be  abundant; the  forehead  charm- 
ing and  audacious,  the  corsage  thin;  in  two  words, 
a  green  fruit. 

"That,"  replied  Bixiou  to  him,  "is  a  rat  orna- 
mented with  its  mother." 

"A  rat?— what  is  that?" 

"This  rat,"  said  Leon,  who  nodded  in  a  friendly 
manner  to  Mademoiselle  Ninette,  "can  gain  for  thee 
thy  suit." 

Gazonal  started,  but  Bixiou  held  him  by  the  arm 
since  leaving  the  cafe,  for  he  considered  his  face  a 
trifle  too  much  inclined  to  redness. 


THE   INVOLUNTARY  COMEDIANS  331 

"This  rat,  which  is  coming  out  from  a  rehearsal 
at  the  Opera,  goes  home  to  get  a  thin  dinner  and  will 
comeback  in  three  hours  to  dress  itself,  if  it  appears 
this  evening  in  the  ballet,  for  to-day  is  Monday. 
This  rat  is  thirteen  years  old ;  it  is  a  rat  already  old. 
In  two  years  from  now,  this  creature  will  be  worth 
sixty  thousand  francs  on  the  Exchange;  she  will  be 
nothing  or  everything,  a  great  danseuse  or  a  mar- 
cheiise,  a  famous  name  or  a  common  courtesan. 
She  has  been  working  since  she  was  eight  years 
old.  Such  as  you  see  her,  she  is  worn  out  with 
fatigue,  she  has  broken  her  body  this  morning  in 
the  dancing-class;  she  is  coming  out  from  a  re- 
hearsal in  which  evolutions  are  as  difficult  as  the  com- 
binations of  a  Chinese  puzzle;  she  will  come  back 
this  evening.  The  rat  is  one  of  the  elements  of  the 
Opera,  for  she  is  to  the  premiere  danseuse  what 
the  little  clerk  is  to  the  notary.  The  rat,  it  is 
hope. ' ' 

"Who  produces  the  rat?"  asked  Gazonal. 

"The  porters,  the  poor,  the  actors,  the  dancers," 
replied  Bixiou.  "It  is  only  the  very  deepest  pov- 
erty which  will  advise  a  child  of  eight  years  to 
deliver  her  feet  and  her  joints  to  the  hardest  tor- 
ment, to  remain  virtuous  till  sixteen  or  eighteen, 
entirely  through  speculation,  and  to  keep  at  her 
side  a  horrible  old  woman,  as  you  put  manure 
around  a  pretty  flower.  You  are  going  to  see  file 
out,  one  after  the  other,  all  the  talent  little  and  great, 
artists  in  blade  and  in  flower,  who  elevate,  to  the 
glory  of  France,  that  monument  of  all  time  called 


332  THE   INVOLUNTARY  COMEDIANS 

the  Opera,  a  reunion  of  the  powers,  the  wills,  the 
geniuses  which  are  only  found  in  Paris — " 

"I  have  already  seen  the  Opera,"  replied  Gazonal, 
with  a  sufficient  air. 

"From  the  top  of  your  bench  at  three  francs,  sixty 
centimes,"  replied  the  landscapist,  "as  you  have 
seen  Paris  in  the  Rue  Croix-des-Petits-Champs, — 
without  knowing  anything  about  it. — What  were 
they  giving  at  the  Opera  when  you  went  there?" 

"  William  Tell." 

"Good,"  returned  the  painter;  "the  grand  duet 
of  Matilda  should  have  given  you  pleasure.  Well, 
what,  according  to  your  ideas,  would  be  the  first  thing 
the  cantatrice  would  do  on  leaving  the  stage?" 

"She  would—   what?—" 

"Sit  down  to  eat  two  mutton  cutlets  nearly  raw, 
which  her  servant  kept  ready — " 

"Ah!  Bouffre!" 

"La  Malibran  sustained  herself  with  brandy, 
and  it  was  that  which  killed  her. — Another  thing! 
You  have  seen  the  ballet;  you  are  going  to  see  it  go 
by  here,  in  simple  morning  costume,  without  know- 
ing that  your  suit  depends  on  some  of  those  legs?" 

"My  suit?—" 

"There,  cousin,  see,  what  they  call  amarcheuse." 

Leon  pointed  out  one  of  those  superb  creatures 
who,  at  twenty-five,  have  already  lived  sixty  years, 
of  a  beauty  so  real  and  so  sure  to  be  cultivated,  that 
they  do  not  make  it  obvious.  She  was  tall,  walked 
well,  had  the  assured  look  of  a  dandy  and  her  toilet 
recommended  itself  by  a  ruinous  simplicity. 


THE   INVOLUNTARY  COMEDIANS  333 

"It  is  Carabine,"  said  Bixiou,  who  made,  as  did 
the  painter,  a  slight  salutation  with  his  head,  to 
which  Carabine  replied  with  a  smile. 

"There  is  another  who  can  shipwreck  your  pre- 
fect." 

"A  marcheuse!  but  what  is  that?" 

"The  marcheuse  is  a  rat  of  great  beauty  whom  her 
mother,  false  or  true,  has  sold  the  day  on  which  she 
could  not  become  either  the  first  or  the  second  or  the 
third  figure  of  the  dance,  and  when  she  has  pre- 
ferred the  state  of  coryphee  to  any  other,  for  the 
great  reason  that  after  having  employed  her  youth 
in  it  she  could  not  take  any  other ;  she  would  be 
rejected  at  the  little  theatres  where  dancers  are 
required;  she  would  not  have  succeeded  in  the  three 
cities  of  France  in  which  ballets  are  given;  she 
would  not  have  had  the  money  or  the  desire  to  go 
abroad,  for,  know  it,  the  great  Parisian  school  of  the 
dance  furnishes  the  entire  world  with  dancers  and 
danseuses.  Thus,  for  a  rat  to  become  a  marcheuse, 
that  is  to  say,  figurante  of  the  dance,  it  is  necessary 
that  she  should  have  had  some  solid  attachment 
which  detained  her  in  Paris,  a  rich  man  whom  she 
did  not  love,  a  poor  youth  whom  she  loved  too 
much.  This  one  whom  you  have  just  seen  pass, 
who  will  change  her  costume  perhaps  three  times 
this  evening,  as  a  princess,  as  a  peasant  woman,  as 
a  Tyrolean,  etc.,  has  some  two  hundred  francs  a 
month." 

"She  is  better  dressed  than  our  prefect's  wife — " 

"If  you  go  to  see  her,"  said  Bixiou,  "you  will 


334  THE  INVOLUNTARY  COMEDIANS 

find  there  a  femme  de  chambre,  cook  and  domestic ; 
she  occupies  a  magnificent  apartment  in  the  Rue 
Saint-Georges;  in  short,  she  is,  in  the  proportions 
of  the  French  fortunes  of  to-day  with  the  ancient 
ones,  the  successor  to  the  fille  d 'Opera  of  the  eigh- 
teenth century.  Carabine  is  a  power,  she  governs 
at  this  moment  Du  Tillet,  a  banker  who  is  very  in- 
fluential in  the  Chambers — " 

"And  above  these  two  steps  of  the  ballet  what 
else  is  there?"  asked  Gazonal. 

"Look!"  said  his  cousin  to  him,  showing  him  an 
elegant  calash  which  was  passing  at  the  end  of  the 
boulevard,  in  the  Rue  de  la  Grange-Bateliere,  "there 
is  one  of  the  premiers  sujets  of  the  dance,  whose  name 
on  the  poster  attracts  all  Paris,  who  earns  sixty 
thousand  francs  a  year,  and  who  lives  like  a  princess : 
the  price  of  your  manufactory  would  not  be  enough 
to  buy  the  right  to  say  good-day  to  her  thirty  times. " 

"Eh !  well,  I  can  say  it  to  myself ;  that  will  not  be 
so  dear!" 

"Do  you  see,"  said  Bixiou  to  him,  "on  the  front 
of  the  calash  that  handsome  young  man?  it  is  a  vis- 
count who  bears  a  fine  name;  it  is  her  first  gentle- 
man of  the  chamber,  he  who  conducts  her  business 
with  the  newspapers,  who  carries  the  words  of 
peace  or  war  each  morning  to  the  director  of  the 
Opera,  or  who  occupies  himself  with  the  applause 
which  salutes  her  when  she  comes  on  the  stage  or 
when  she  leaves  it." 

"This,  my  dear  Messieurs,  is  the  final  stroke;  I 
knew  nothing  at  all  of  Paris." 


THE   INVOLUNTARY  COMEDIANS  335 

"Well,  at  least  know  all  that  can  be  seen  in  ten 
minutes,  in  the  Passage  de  l'Opera.  Look!"  said 
Bixiou. 

Two  persons  came  out  from  the  passage  at  this 
moment,  a  man  and  a  woman.  The  woman  was 
neither  pretty  nor  ugly,  her  dress  had  that  distinc- 
tion of  form,  of  cut  and  of  color  which  reveals  an 
artist,  and  the  man  had  sufficiently  the  air  of  a 
singer. 

"There,"  said  Bixiou  to  him,  "is  a  baritone  and 
a  second  premier  sujet  of  the  dance.  The  baritone 
is  a  man  of  immense  talent,  but  being  only  an 
accessory  to  the  score,  he  scarcely  earns  as  much 
as  the  dancer  earns.  Famous  before  Taglioni 
and  the  Elssler  appeared,  the  second  sujet  has  pre- 
served for  us  the  character  dance,  the  Mimic;  if  the 
two  others  had  not  revealed  in  the  dance  a  poetry 
unperceived  up  to  that  time,  this  one  would  be  a 
talent  of  the  first  order;  but  she  is  in  the  second 
rank  to-day;  nevertheless,  she  fingers  her  thirty 
thousand  francs,  and  has  for  a  faithful  friend  a  peer 
of  France,  very  influential  in  the  Chamber.  Ah! 
see,  there  is  a  danseuse  of  the  third  order,  a  dan- 
seuse  who  would  not  exist  were  it  not  for  the  all- 
powerful  ness  of  a  journal.  If  her  engagement  were 
not  renewed,  the  Minister  would  have  one  enemy 
more  on  his  back.  The  corps  de  ballet  is  to  the 
Opera  the  great  power, — therefore,  is  it  of  the  very 
highest  tone  in  the  higher  spheres  of  dandyism  and 
of  politics  to  have  relations  with  the  dance  rather 
than  with  the  singing.     In  the  orchestra,  where  the 


336  THE   INVOLUNTARY  COMEDIANS 

habitues  of  the  Opera  congregate,  these  words: 
'Monsieur  is  for  the  singing,'  are  a  sort  of  jest." 

A  little  man,  with  a  commonplace  face,  dressed 
simply,  passed  by. 

"Finally,  see  there  the  second  half  of  the  Opera's 
receipts  passing;  it  is  the  tenor.  There  is  no  longer 
any  poem  or  any  music  or  any  theatrical  represen- 
tation possible  without  a  celebrated  tenor,  whose 
voice  reaches  a  certain  note.  The  tenor,  it  is  love, 
it  is  the  voice  which  touches  the  heart,  which 
vibrates  in  the  soul,  and  which  figures  for  a  salary 
more  considerable  than  that  of  a  minister.  A  hun- 
dred thousand  francs  for  a  throat,  a  hundred  thou- 
sand francs  for  a  pair  of  heels,  these  are  the  two 
financial  burdens  of  the  Opera." 

"I  am  stupefied,"  said  Gazonal,  "at  all  the  hun- 
dred thousand  francs  which  promenade  themselves 
around  here." 

"You  are  going  to  be  still  more  so,  my  dear 
cousin;  follow  us. — We  are  going  to  take  Paris  as 
an  artist  takes  a  violoncello,  and  make  you  see  how 
one  performs  on  it;  in  short,  how  one  amuses  one's 
self  in  Paris." 

"It  is  a  kaleidoscope  seven  leagues  around!" 
cried  Gazonal. 

"Before  piloting  Monsieur,  I  ought  to  see  Gail- 
lard,"  said  Bixiou. 

"But  Gaillard  may  be  useful  to  us  for  the  cousin." 

"What  is  this  other  machine?"  asked  Gazonal. 

"It  is  not  a  machine!  it  is  a  machinist.  Gaillard 
is  one  of  our  friends  who  has  ended   by  becoming 


THE   INVOLUNTARY  COMEDIANS  337 

the  director  of  a  newspaper,  and  of  whom  the  char- 
acter, as  well  as  the  cash,  recommends  itself  by 
movements  comparable  to  those  of  the  tides.  Gail- 
lard  can  contribute  to  help  you  gain  your  suit." 

"It  is  lost—" 

"That  is  just  the  time  to  gain  it !"  replied  Bixiou. 

In  the  house  of  Theodore  Gaillard,  then  lodged  in 
the  Rue  de  Menars,  the  valet  de  chambre  caused  the 
three  friends  to  wait  in  a  boudoir,  saying  to  them 
that  Monsieur  was  in  secret  conference — 

"With  whom?"  asked  Bixiou. 

"With  a  man  who  is  selling  to  him  the  incarcera- 
tion of  an  unseizable  debtor,"  replied  a  magnificent 
woman  who  appeared  in  a  delicious  morning  toilet. 

"In  that  case,  dear  Suzanne,"  said  Bixiou,  "we 
can  enter,  we — " 

"Oh!  the  beautiful  creature!"  cried  Gazonal. 

"It  is  Madame  Gaillard,"  said  Leon  de  Lora  to 
him,  speaking  in  his  cousin's  ear.  "You  see,  my 
dear  fellow,  the  most  modest  woman  in  Paris:  she 
had  all  the  public;  she  contents  herself  with  her 
husband." 

"  What  would  you  have,  messeigneurs?"  said  the 
facetious  director,  seeing  his  two  friends,  and  imi- 
tating Frederick  Lemaitre. 

Theodore  Gaillard,  formerly  a  man  of  wit,  had 
ended  by  becoming  stupid  and  in  remaining  in  the 
same  surroundings,  a  moral  phenomenon  which  may 
be  observed  in  Paris.  His  principal  accomplish- 
ment consisted  at  this  time  in  sprinkling  his  con- 
versation with  quotations  taken  from  the  theatrical 
22 


338  THE  INVOLUNTARY  COMEDIANS 

pieces  then  in  favor  and  pronounced  with  the 
accent  which  was  given  them  by  the  celebrated 
actors. 

"We  have  come  to  humbug,"  replied  Leon. 

"Again,  young  man!" — Odry  in  Les  Saltim- 
banques — . 

"Finally,  surely,  we  shall  have  him,"  said 
Gaillard's  interlocutor,  summing  up. 

"Are  you  very  sure  of  it,  Pere  Fromenteau?" 
asked  Gaillard ;  "here  are  eleven  times  that  we  have 
had  him  in  the  evening  and  that  you  have  missed 
him  in  the  morning." 

"What  would  you  have!  I  have  never  seen  a 
debtor  like  that  one;  he  is  a  locomotive;  he  goes  to 
sleep  in  Paris  and  wakes  up  in  Seine-et-Oise.  He 
is  a  combination  lock." 

Seeing  a  smile  on  the  lips  of  Gaillard,  he  added: 

"That  is  said  also  in  our  partie.  To  pinch  a  man, 
to  lock  a  man,  that  is  to  arrest  him.  In  the  judiciary 
police,  they  speak  otherwise.  Vidocq  said  to  his 
customer:  'You  are  served.'  That  is  droller,  for  it 
means  the  guillotine." 

Under  the  jog  with  the  elbow  which  Bixiou  gave 
him,  Gazonal  became  all  eyes  and  all  ears. 

"Does  Monsieur  grease  the  palm  ?"  asked  Fromen- 
teau, in  a  menacing  tone,  although  a  cold  one. 

"It  is  a  question  of  fifty  centimes" — Odry  in  Les 
Saltimbanques, — replied  the  director,  taking  a  hun- 
dred sous  and  offering  them  to  Fromenteau. 

"And  for  the  canaille? — "  replied  the  man. 

"Which?"  asked  Gaillard. 


THE   INVOLUNTARY  COMEDIANS  339 

"Those  whom  I  employ,"  replied  Fromenteau, 
tranquilly. 

"Are  there  any  below?"  asked  Bixiou. 

"Yes,  Monsieur,"  replied  the  spy.  "There  are 
those  who  give  information  without  knowing  it  and 
without  being  paid  for  it.  I  put  the  fools  and  the 
simpletons  below  the  canaille." 

"It  is  often  fine  and  clever,  the  canaille!"  cried 
Leon. 

"You  belong,  then,  to  the  police  ?"  asked  Gazonal, 
looking  with  an  unquiet  curiosity  at  this  little  dry 
man,  impassible  and  dressed  like  the  third  clerk  of 
a  bailiff. 

"Of  which  do  you  speak?"  asked  Fromenteau. 

"There  are,  then,  several  of  them  ?" 

"There  are  as  many  as  five  of  them,"  replied 
Fromenteau.  "The  judiciary  police,  the  chief  of 
which  was  Vidocq!  The  secret  police,  the  chief  of 
which  is  always  unknown.  The  political  police, 
that  of  Fouche.  Then  that  of  Foreign  Affairs,  and 
that  of  the  Chateau — the  Emperor,  Louis  XVIII., 
etc., — which  squabbled  with  that  of  the  Quay  Mala- 
quais.  That  finished  with  Monsieur  Decazes.  I 
belonged  to  that  of  Louis  XVIII.  ;  I  was  with  it  since 
1793,  with  that  poor  Contenson. " 

Leon  de  Lora,  Bixiou,  Gazonal  and  Gaillard 
looked  at  each  other,  all  expressing  the  same 
thought:     "How  many  men's  necks  has  he  cut?" 

"Nowadays,  they  want  to  go  on  without  us,  a  stu- 
pidity!" resumed,  after  a  pause,  this  little  man, 
become  so  terrible  in  a  moment.    "At  the  Prefecture, 


340  THE   INVOLUNTARY  COMEDIANS 

since  1830,  they  want  honest  people;  I  resigned  and 
I  have  made  for  myself  a  little  tran-tran  with 
arrests  for  debt." 

"It  is  the  right  arm  of  the  guardians  of  com- 
merce," said  Gaillard  in  Bixiou'sear;  "but  you  can 
never  know  which  pays  it  the  most,  the  debtor  or 
the  creditor." 

"The  more  contemptible  a  trade  is,  the  more  it 
must  be  honest,"  said  Fromenteau,  sententiously : 
"1  am  for  that  one  who  pays  me  the  most.  You  wish 
to  recover  fifty  thousand  francs  and  you  come  to  an 
agreement  with  the  means  of  action.  Give  me  five 
hundred  francs,  and  to-morrow  morning  your  man 
is  arrested,  for  we  have  him  spotted  since  yester- 
day." 

"Five  hundred  francs  for  you  alone?"  cried  The- 
odore Gaillard. 

"Lisette  has  no  shawl,"  replied  the  spy,  without 
a  muscle  of  his  face  moving;  "I  call  her  Lisette 
because  of  Beranger. " 

"You  have  a  Lisette  and  you  remain  in  your  vo- 
cation," cried  the  virtuous  Gazonal. 

"It  is  so  amusing!  You  may  talk  about  the 
charms  of  fishing  and  the  chase;  to  hunt  men  in 
Paris  is  a  much  more  interesting  occupation." 

"In  fact,"  said  Gazonal,  speaking  aloud  to  him- 
self, "they  must  have  great  talent — " 

"If  I  were  to  enumerate  to  you  the  qualities  which 
make  a  man  remarkable  in  our  partie,"  said  Fro- 
menteau to  him,  his  rapid  glance  having  enabled  him 
to  take  in  the  whole  of  Gazonal,  "you  would  think 


THE   INVOLUNTARY  COMEDIANS  341 

that  I  was  speaking  of  a  man  of  genius.  Do  we 
not  have  to  have  the  eyes  of  the  lynx! — Audacity! 
— to  enter  iike  bombs  into  the  houses,  to  accost  peo- 
ple as  if  one  knew  them,  to  propose  villainies 
which  are  always  accepted,  etc. — Memory. — Sa- 
gacity.— Invention — to  find  schemes  rapidily  con- 
ceived, never  the  same,  for  the  espionage  is 
modified  according  to  the  character  and  the  habits  of 
each  one;  it  is  a  heavenly  gift— Finally,  agility, 
strength,  etc.  All  these  qualities,  Messieurs,  are 
inscribed  on  the  door  of  the  Gymnasium  Amoros  as 
being  virtues!  We  have  to  possess  all  these  under 
penalty  of  losing  the  allowance  of  a  hundred  francs 
a  month  which  is  given  to  us  by  the  state,  the  Rue 
de  Jerusalem,  or  the  Garde  de  Commerce." 

"And  you  seem  to  me  to  be  a  remarkable  man," 
said  Gazonal  to  him. 

Fromenteau  looked  at  the  provincial  without 
replying  to  him,  without  giving  any  sign  of  emo- 
tion, and  went  out  without  saluting  anybody.  A 
trait  of  true  genius! 

"Well,  cousin,  you  have  seen  the  police  incar- 
nated," said  Leon  to  Gazonal. 

"It  has  had  on  me  the  effect  of  a  digestive," 
replied  the  honest  manufacturer,  while  Gaillard  and 
Bixiou  were  conversing  with  lowered  voices. 

"I  will  give  you  an  answer  this  evening  at  Cara- 
bine's, "said  Gaillard  aloud,  reseating  himself  at  his 
desk,  without  seeing  or  saluting  Gazonal. 

"He  is  an  impertinent!"  exclaimed  the  South- 
erner on  the  threshold  of  the  door. 


342  THE   INVOLUNTARY  COMEDIANS 

"His  paper  has  twenty-two  thousand  subscrib- 
ers," said  Leon  de  Lora.  "It  is  one  of  the  five 
great  powers  of  the  day,  and  he  has  not  in  the 
morning  the  time  to  be  polite. — " 

"If  we  are  going  to  the  Chamber,  there  to  arrange 
his  lawsuit,  let  us  take  the  longest  road,"  said  Leon 
to  Bixiou. 

"Words  said  by  great  men  are  like  spoons  of  sil- 
ver-gilt which  lose  their  gold  by  use:  through  being 
repeated  they  lose  all  their  brilliancy,"  replied 
Bixiou;  "but  where  are  we  going?" 

"Near  here,  to  our  hatter's,"  replied  Leon. 

"Bravo,"  cried  Bixiou.  "If  we  continue  thus, 
perhaps  we  shall  have  an  amusing  day." 

"Gazonal,"  resumed  Leon,  "I  am  going  to  make 
him  pose  for  you;  only,  be  as  serious  as  the  king 
on  a  hundred-sou  piece,  for  you  are  going  to  see 
gratis  a  proud  original,  a  man  whose  importance 
has  made  him  lose  his  head.  To-day,  my  dear  fel- 
low, all  the  world  wishes  to  cover  itself  with  glory, 
and  a  great  many  cover  themselves  with  ridicule; 
from  thence  come  living  caricatures  entirely 
new — " 

"When  all  the  world  shall  have  glory,  how  can 
anyone  be  distinguished?"  asked  Gazonal. 

"Glory? — that  would  be  to  be  a  fool,"  replied 
Bixiou  to  him.  "Your  cousin  is  decorated,  I  am 
well  dressed;  it  is  I  whom  people  look  at — " 

With  this  observation,  which  may  explain  why 
the  orators  and  other  great  men  of  politics  put  noth- 
ing in  the  button-holes  of  their  coats  in  Paris,  Leon 


THE   INVOLUNTARY  COMEDIANS  343 

caused  Gazonal  to  read  in  letters  of  gold  the  illus- 
trious name  of  VITAL,  SUCCESSEUR  DE  FINOT, 
FABRICANT  DE  CHAPEAUX— and  not  Chapelier  as 
formerly — whose  advertisements  bring  as  much 
money  to  the  newspapers  as  those  of  three  sellers 
of  pills  or  of  burnt  almonds,  and  who,  moreover, 
is  the  author  of  a  little  brochure  on  the  hat" 

"My  dear  fellow,"  said  Bixiou  to  Gazonal,  who 
was  showing  him  the  splendor  of  the  front  of  the 
shop,  "Vital  has  forty  thousand  francs  income." 

"And  he  remains  a  hatter !"  cried  the  Southerner, 
twisting  Bixiou's  arm  with  a  sudden  movement. 

"You  are  going  to  see  the  man,"  replied  Leon. 
"You  need  a  hat ;  you  are  going  to  have  one  gratis. " 

"Monsieur  Vital  is  not  in  ?"  asked  Bixiou,  who  did 
not  see  anyone  at  the  counter. 

"Monsieur  is  correcting  his  proofs  in  his  office," 
replied  a  first  salesman. 

"Hein!  what  style!"  said  Leon  to  his  cousin. 

Then,  addressing  the  first  salesman : 

"May  we  speak  to  him  without  injuring  his 
inspirations  ?" 

"Permit  those  gentlemen  to  enter,"  said  a  voice. 

It  was  a  bourgeois  voice,  a  voice  of  an  eligible,  a 
powerful  voice  and  one  with  a  good  income. 

And  Vital  deigned  to  show  himself,  clothed  all  in 
black,  decorated  with  a  magnificent  shirt,  frilled 
and  ornamented  with  a  diamond.  The  three  friends 
perceived  a  young  and  pretty  woman  seated  in  the 
office,  working  at  embroidery. 

Vital  is  a  man  of  from  thirty  to  forty  years  of 


344  THE   INVOLUNTARY  COMEDIANS 

age,  of  a  primitive  joviality  restrained  under  the 
pressure  of  his  ambitious  ideas.  He  enjoys  a  me- 
dium stature,  a  privilege  of  fine  organizations. 
Sufficiently  stout,  he  is  careful  of  his  person;  his 
forehead  is  losing  its  hair,  but  he  contributes  to  his 
baldness  in  order  to  give  himself  the  air  of  a  man 
devoured  by  thought.  You  may  see,  by  the  man- 
ner in  which  his  wife  looks  at  him  and  listens  to 
him  that  she  believes  in  the  genius  and  in  the  fame 
of  her  husband.  Vital  loves  the  artists,  not  that  he 
has  any  taste  for  the  arts,  but  through  confrater- 
nity; for  he  believes  himself  an  artist  and  causes 
this  to  be  made  evident  while  protesting  against  his 
title  of  nobility,  in  placing  himself  with  a  constant 
premeditation  at  an  enormous  distance  from  the  arts, 
in  order  that  it  may  be  said  to  him :  "But  you  have 
elevated  the  hat  to  the  height  of  a  science." 

"Have  you  at  last  found  me  a  hat?"  said  the 
landscape-painter. 

"How,  monsieur,  in  two  weeks?"  replied  Vital, 
"and  for  you! — But  would  it  be  enough  to  find  the 
form  which  would  be  in  consonance  with  your 
physiognomy  in  two  months?  See  your  lithograph, 
there  it  is;  I  have  already  studied  you  well!  I 
would  not  give  myself  so  much  trouble  for  a  prince; 
but  you  are  more,  you  are  an  artist!  and  you  com- 
prehend me,  my  dear  monsieur." 

"Here  is  one  of  our  greatest  inventors,  a  man  who 
would  be  as  grand  as  Jacquart  if  he  would  let  him- 
self die  a  little,"  said  Bixiou,  presenting  Gazonal. 
"Our  friend,  a  cloth  manufacturer,  has  discovered 


THE   INVOLUNTARY  COMEDIANS  345 

a  means  of  restoring  the  indigo  of  old  blue  coats,  and 
he  has  wished  to  see  you  as  a  great  phenomenon,  for 
you  have  said:  'The  hat,  it  is  the  man.''  This  say- 
ing has  delighted  Monsieur.  Ah!  Vital,  you  have 
faith!  you  believe  in  something,  you  have  an  en- 
thusiasm for  your  work." 

Vital  listened  with  difficulty;  he  had  become  pale 
with  pleasure. 

"Rise,  wife! — Monsieur  is  a  prince  of  science." 

Madame  Vital  rose  at  her  husband's  gesture, 
Gazonal  bowed  to  her. 

"Shall  1  have  the  honor  to  serve  you?"  resumed 
Vital,  with  a  joyous  obsequiousness. 

"The  same  price  as  for  me,"  said  Bixiou. 

"Certainly;  I  ask  no  other  honorarium  than  the 
pleasure  of  being  occasionally  quoted  by  you,  Mes- 
sieurs! Monsieur  requires  a  picturesque  hat,  in  the 
style  of  that  of  Monsieur  Lousteau, "  said  he,  look- 
ing at  Bixiou  with  a  magisterial  air.  "I  will  reflect 
upon  it." 

"You  give  yourself  a  great  deal  of  trouble,"  said 
Gazonal  to  the  Parisian  manufacturer. 

"Oh!  for  some  persons  only,  for  those  who  know 
how  to  appreciate  the  cost  of  my  cares.  Why,  in 
the  aristocracy  there  is  only  one  man  who  has  com- 
prehended the  hat,  that  is  the  Prince  de  Bethune. 
How  is  it  that  men  do  not  reflect,  like  women,  that 
the  hat  is  the  first  thing  which  attracts  attention  in 
the  dress,  and  why  do  they  not  think  to  change  the 
actual  system,  which,  let  us  say  it,  is  ignoble? 
But  the  Frenchman  is,  of  all  people,  the  one  who 


346  THE   INVOLUNTARY  COMEDIANS 

persists  the  longest  in  a  stupidity!  1  know  well  the 
difficulties,  Messieurs!  1  do  not  speak  of  my  writ- 
ings on  this  subject,  in  which  I  believe  I  have  ap- 
proached it  in  the  spirit  of  philosophy,  but  merely 
as  a  hat-maker.  I  alone  have  discovered  the  means 
of  giving  a  character  to  the  infamous  head-piece 
which  France  possesses  until  the  moment  when  I 
shall  succeed  in  overthrowing  it." 

He  showed  the  frightful  hat  worn  to-day. 

"Here  is  the  enemy,  Messieurs,"  he  resumed. 
"  'To  say  that  the  most  brilliant  people  on  the  earth 
consent  to  wear  on  their  head  this  piece  of  stove- 
pipe!' has  said  one  of  our  writers — .  See  all  the 
inflections  which  I  have  been  able  to  give  to  these 
frightful  lines,"  he  added,  designating  one  by  one 
his  creations.  "But,  although  I  may  know  how  to 
make  them  appropriate  to  the  character  of  each  one, 
as  you  see,  for  here  is  the  hat  of  a  physician,  of  a 
grocer,  of  a  dandy,  that  of  an  artist,  of  a  fat  man, 
of  a  thin  man,  it  is  always  horrible!  Hold,  grasp 
well  all  my  thought!" 

He  took  a  hat,  low  in  form  and  with  a  large 
rim. 

"Here  is  the  former  hat  of  Claude  Vignon,  a  great 
critic,  a  liberal  man  and  a  good  liver. — He  rallied  to 
the  support  of  the  ministry ;  he  is  appointed  professor, 
librarian;  he  works  only  for  the  Debats,  he  has 
been  made  Maitre  des  Requites;  he  has  sixteen 
thousand  francs  allowance,  he  earns  four  thousand 
francs  on  his  journal;  he  is  decorated. — Well,  then, 
see  his  new  hat!" 


THE   INVOLUNTARY  COMEDIANS  347 

And  Vital  showed  a  hat  of  a  cut  and  of  a  design 
veritably  justly  moderate. 

"You  should  have  made  for  him  a  Punchinello's 
hat!"  cried  Gazonal. 

"You  are  a  man  of  genius  ahead  of  all  others, 
Monsieur  Vital,"  said  Leon. 

Vital  bowed,  without  suspecting  the  pun. 

"Could  you  tell  me  why  your  stores  remain  open 
in  the  evening,  in  Paris,  later  than  all  others,  even 
after  the  cafes  and  the  wine-shops?  Truly,  that  has 
puzzled  me,"  asked  Gazonal. 

"In  the  first  place,  our  establishments  are  much 
handsomer  to  see  lit  up  than  they  are  during  the 
day;  then  for  ten  hats  that  we  sell  during  the  day 
fifty  are  sold  in  the  evening." 

"Everything  is  odd  at  Paris,"  said  Leon. 

"Well,  notwithstanding  my  efforts  and  my  suc- 
cesses," resumed  Vital,  pursuing  the  course  of  his 
eulogium,  "it  is  necessary  to  arrive  at  the  hat  with 
a  round  calotte.     It  is  to  that  that  I  tend!" 

"What  is  the  obstacle  to  it?"  asked  Gazonal  of 
him. 

"The  low  price,  monsieur !  In  the  first  place, 
they  would  set  up  for  you  beautiful  silk  hats  for  fif- 
teen francs,  which  would  kill  our  commerce,  for  at 
Paris  one  never  has  fifteen  francs  to  invest  in  a 
new  hat.  If  the  beaver  costs  thirty  francs,  it  is 
still  the  same  problem.  When  1  say  beaver,  there 
are  not  sold  ten  pounds  of  beaver  fur  in  France. 
This  article  costs  three  hundred  and  fifty  francs  a 
pound;  it  requires  an  ounce  for  a  hat;  moreover,  the 


348  THE   INVOLUNTARY  COMEDIANS 

beaver  hat  is  not  worth  anything, — this  fur  takes 
the  dye  badly,  reddens  in  ten  minutes  in  the  sun, 
and  the  hat  gets  warped  in  the  heat.  That  which 
we  call  beaver  is  nothing  more  than  the  fur  of  the 
hare.  The  best  qualities  are  made  with  the  back 
of  the  animal,  the  second  with  the  sides,  the  third 
with  the  belly.  I  give  to  you  the  secret  of  the 
trade,  you  are  honorable  gentlemen.  But  whether 
we  have  hareskin  or  silk  on  the  head,  fifteen  or 
thirty  francs,  the  problem  is  always  unsolvable.  It 
is  always  necessary  to  pay  for  the  hat;  that  is  why 
the  hat  remains  what  it  is.  The  honor  of  France 
vestimental  will  be  saved  the  day  on  which  the 
gray  hat  with  the  round  calotte  will  cost  a  hundred 
francs!  We  shall  then  be  able,  like  the  tailors,  to 
give  credit.  To  arrive  at  this  result,  it  will  be 
necessary  to  decide  to  wear  the  buckle  and  the  rib- 
bon of  gold,  the  feather,  the  reveres  of  satin  as 
under  Louis  XIII.  and  Louis  XIV.  Our  business, 
thus  becoming  inventive,  will  increase  tenfold. 
The  market  of  the  world  will  belong  to  France  as 
do  the  fashions  for  women  to  which  Paris  will 
always  give  the  style;  while  our  present  hat  can 
be  made  anywhere.  Ten  millions  of  foreign  money 
annually  for  our  country  are  involved  in  this  ques- 
tion—" 

"It  is  a  revolution!"  said  Bixiou  to  him,  profess- 
ing enthusiasm. 

"Yes,  radical,  for  it  will  be  necessary  to  change 
the  form." 

"You are  happy  after  the  fashion  of  Luther, "said 


THE   INVOLUNTARY  COMEDIANS  349 

Leon,  who  was  always  cultivating  puns,  "you  dream 
a  reform." 

"Yes,  Monsieur.  Ah!  if  twelve  or  fifteen  artists, 
capitalists  or  dandies,  who  set  the  style,  would  have 
the  courage  during  twenty-four  hours,  France 
would  gain  a  fine  commercial  battle!  Why,  1  say 
to  my  wife:  'To  succeed,  I  would  give  my  fortune!' 
Yes,  all  my  ambition  is  to  regenerate  the  thing  and 
to  disappear ! — " 

"That  man  is  colossal,"  said  Gazonal,  as  they 
went  out,  "but  I  assure  you  that  all  your  originals 
have  something  southern — " 

"Let  us  go  that  way,"  said  Bixiou,  designating 
the  Rue  Saint-Marc. 

"We  are  going  to  see  something  else? — " 

"You  are  going  to  see  the  usurer  of  the  rats,  of 
the  marchenses,  a  woman  who  possesses  as  many 
frightful  secrets  as  you  will  see  gowns  hung  behind 
her  shop  window,"  said  Bixiou. 

And  he  pointed  out  one  of  those  shops  whose 
neglect  makes  a  spot  in  the  midst  of  the  dazzling 
modern  establishments.  It  was  a  shop  with  a  front 
painted  in  1820  and  which  a  bankruptcy  had  un- 
doubtedly left  on  the  hands  of  the  proprietor  of  the 
house  in  a  doubtful  state;  the  color  had  disappeared 
under  a  double  layer  imposed  by  use  and  greatly 
thickened  by  dust;  the  windows  were  dirty,  the 
door  latch  turned  by  itself,  as  in  all  those  places 
from  which  one  issues  still  more  promptly  than  one 
enters. 

"What   do   you   say   to   that,  is  it  not  the  first 


350  THE    INVOLUNTARY  COMEDIANS 

cousin  of  Death?"  said  the  artist  in  the  ear  of 
Gazonal,  in  showing  him  at  the  counter  a  terrible 
companion.  "Well,  she  calls  herself  Madame  Nour- 
risson. " 

"Madame,  how  much  for  this  guipure  lace?" 
asked  the  manufacturer,  who  wished  to  contest  in 
enterprise  with  the  two  artists. 

"For  you  who  come  from  afar,  Monsieur,  it  will 
be  only  a  hundred  ecus,"  she  replied. 

And,  remarking  a  little  movement  peculiar  to 
Southerners,  she  added,  with  a  penetrating  air : 

"That  comes  from  the  poor  Princesse  de  Lam- 
balle." 

"Why!  so  near  to  the  Chateau?"  cried  Bixiou. 

"Monsieur,  they  do  not  believe  in  it,"  she  re- 
plied. 

"Madame,  we  did  not  come  here  to  buy,"  said 
Bixiou,  gravely. 

"1  know  that  well  enough,  Monsieur,"  replied 
Madame  Nourrisson. 

"We  have  several  things  to  sell,"  said  the  illus- 
trious caricaturist,  continuing.  "1  live  in  the  Rue 
de  Richelieu,  112,  on  the  sixth  floor.  If  you  would 
stop  in  there  a  moment,  you  might  make  an  excel- 
lent bargain  ? — " 

"Monsieur  would  like  perhaps  a  few  yards  of  very 
superior  muslin?"  she  asked,  smiling. 

"No,  it  is  about  a  wedding  dress,"  replied  Leon 
de  Lora,  gravely. 

A  quarter  of  an  hour  later  Madame  Nourrisson  did 
in  fact  come  to  the  apartments  of  Bixiou,  who,  to 


THE   INVOLUNTARY  COMEDIANS  35  I 

carry  out  this  pleasantry,  had  brought  home  with 
him  Leon  and  Gazonal ;  Madame  Nourrisson  found 
them  as  serious  as  authors  whose  collaboration  does 
not  obtain  all  the  success  that  it  merits. 

"Madame,"  said  the  intrepid  mystifier  to  her, 
showing  her  a  pair  of  women's  slippers,  "here  is 
something  that  belonged  to  the  Empress  Josephine. " 

It  was  quite  necessary  to  return  to  Madame  Nour- 
risson the  change  for  her  guipure  lace  of  the  Prin- 
cesse  de  Lamballe. 

"That? — "  she  said.  "Those  were  made  this 
year;  see  this  stamp  on  the  soles?" 

"Do  you  not  guess  that  these  slippers  are  a  pre- 
face," replied  Leon,  "although  they  are  usually  the 
conclusion  of  a  romance?" 

"My  friend,  who  is  here,"  resumed  Bixiou,  desig- 
nating the  Southerner,  "in  some  very  important 
family  interests  wishes  to  learn  if  a  young  person, 
of  a  good,  of  a  wealthy  house,  and  whom  he  desires 
to  marry,  has  committed  a  fault?" 

"How  much  will  Monsieur  give?"  she  asked, 
looking  at  Gazonal,  who  was  no  longer  surprised  at 
anything. 

"A  hundred  francs,"  replied  the  manufacturer. 

"Thanks!"  said  she,  embellishing  her  refusal 
with  a  grimace  that  might  make  a  baboon  despair. 

"What  is  it  you  want,  my  little  Madame  Nourris- 
son?" asked  Bixiou,  taking  her  by  the  waist. 

"In  the  first  place,  my  dear  Messieurs,  since  I  have 
worked  for  my  living  I  have  never  seen  anyone, 
either  man  or  woman,  bargaining  over  happiness! 


352  THE   INVOLUNTARY  COMEDIANS 

And,  then,  see  here,  you  are  three  jokers,"  she 
went  on,  permitting  a  smile  to  play  around  her 
cold  lips  and  reinforcing  it  with  a  look  chilled  by 
a  cat-like  mistrust.  "If  it  is  not  a  question  of  your 
happiness,  it  is  one  of  your  fortune;  and,  in  the 
high  station  in  which  you  are  placed,  there  is  still 
less  bargaining  over  a  dot. — Come,  now,"  said  she, 
assuming  an  affected  air,  "what  is  it  all  about,  my 
lambs?" 

"Of  the  house  of  Beunier  &  Co.,"  replied  Bixiou, 
well  content  to  acquire  some  information  concern- 
ing a  person  who  interested  him. 

"Oh!  for  that,"  she  answered,  "a  louis;  that  is 
enough — " 

"And  why?" 

"I  have  all  the  mother's  jewels;  and  from  one 
three  months  to  another  she  is  mighty  uncomfort- 
able, I  should  say  so!  She  has  all  she  can  do  to  pay 
me  the  interest  on  that  which  I  have  lent  her.  You 
wish  to  get  married  over  there,  ninny ! — "  said  she. 
"Give  me  forty  francs,  and  I  will  talk  for  more  than 
a  hundred  ecus." 

Gazonal  showed  a  forty-franc  piece  and  Madame 
Nourrisson  launched  herself  into  frightful  details  on 
the  secret  poverty  of  certain  women  reputed  comme 
il  fant.  The  dealer  in  old  clothes,  enlivened  by  the 
conversation,  revealed  herself.  Without  betraying 
any  name,  any  secret,  she  made  the  two  artists 
shudder  in  demonstrating  to  them  that  there  was 
very  little  happiness  in  Paris  which  was  not  estab- 
lished on  the  vacillating  basis  of  borrowing.     She 


THE   INVOLUNTARY  COA1EDIANS  353 

held  in  her  secret  drawers  souvenirs  of  late  grand- 
mothers, of  living  children,  of  deceased  husbands, 
of  dead  granddaughters,  framed  in  gold  and  in  bril- 
liants !  She  learned  frightful  histories  in  setting  her 
customers  to  talk  of  each  other,  in  wresting  their 
secrets  from  them  in  moments  of  passion,  of  quar- 
reling, of  anger,  and  in  those  soothing  preparations 
which  lead  up  to  a  loan  for  a  conclusion. 

"How  did  you  come  to  engage  in  this  business?" 
asked  Gazonal. 

"For  my  son,"  said  she  ingenuously. 

Nearly  always,  these  dealers  in  second-hand 
clothes  justify  their  commerce  by  reasons  full  of 
fine  motives.  Madame  Nourrisson  pretended  to 
have  lost  several  suitors,  three  daughters  who  had 
taken  to  evil,  all  her  illusions,  in  fact!  She  dis- 
played as  being  among  her  most  valuable  effects, 
tickets  from  the  pawnshops  to  prove  how  many 
evil  chances  there  were  in  her  business.  She  gave 
out  that  she  would  be  much  embarrassed  on  the 
thirtieth  proximo.  There  was  a  great  deal  stolen 
from  her,  she  said. 

The  two  artists  looked  at  each  other  on  hearing 
this  word,  a  little  too  strong. 

"See  here,  my  dears,  I  will  show  you  how  they 
do  us  over  again!  This  is  not  my  case,  but  that  of 
my  opposite  neighbor,  Madame  Mahuchet,  the 
ladies'  shoemaker.  I  had  lent  some  money  to  a 
countess,  a  woman  who  has  too  many  passions  con- 
sidering her  income.  It  is  all  putting  on  airs  among 
beautiful  furniture,  in  a  magnificent  apartment!  It 
23 


354  THE   INVOLUNTARY  COMEDIANS 

is  giving  receptions,  it  is  making,  as  we  say,  a 
devil  of  a  spread.  She  owes,  then,  three  hundred 
francs  to  her  shoemaker,  and  there  is  a  dinner 
given,  a  soiree,  no  later  than  the  day  before  yester- 
day. The  shoemaker,  who  learned  this  through 
the  cook,  came  to  see  me ;  we  got  excited,  she  wished 
to  make  a  scandal;  I,  I  said  to  her:  'My  little 
Mother  Mahuchet,  what  good  will  that  do?  to  get 
yourself  hated.  It  would  be  much  better  to  obtain 
good  security.  To  a  liar,  a  liar  and  a  half!  and  you 
only  save  your  bile — . '  She  insisted  upon  going 
there;  asked  me  to  back  her  up;  we  went  there. 
'Madame  is  not  at  home. '  'We  know  it!'  'We  will 
wait  for  her,'  said  Mother  Mahuchet,  'if  I  have  to 
stay  here  till  midnight.'  And  we  settled  ourselves 
in  the  antechamber  and  went  to  talking.  Ah!  you 
should  have  heard  the  doors  which  opened  and  shut, 
the  little  footsteps,  the  hushed  voices — .  For  my- 
self, that  made  me  uncomfortable.  The  guests 
began  to  arrive  for  dinner.  You  can  judge  of  the 
state  of  affairs  which  this  made.  The  countess  sent 
her  femme  de  chambre  to  wheedle  the  Mahuchet. 
'You  shall  be  paid  to-morrow!'  In  short,  all  the 
humbugs! — Nothing  would  work.  The  countess, 
fine  as  a  Sunday,  arrived  at  the  dining-room.  My 
Mahuchet,  who  heard  her,  opened  the  door  and  pre- 
sented herself.  Bless  me!  on  seeing  a  table  glitter- 
ing with  silver — the  chafing-dishes,  the  chandeliers, 
everything  shining  like  a  jewel-box — she  went  off 
like  a  sodavatre  and  threw  her  bomb-shell :  'When 
one   spends   the   money   of  others,  one   should   be 


THE   INVOLUNTARY  COMEDIANS  355 

temperate,  and  not  give  dinner  parties!  To  be  a 
countess  and  to  owe  a  hundred  ecus  to  a  poor  woman- 
shoemaker  who  has  seven  children ! — '  You  can 
imagine  what  a  volley  she  poured  forth,  this  woman 
has  so  little  education.  At  a  word  of  excuse — 'No 
funds !' — of  the  countess,  my  Mahuchet  cried :  'Eh ! 
Madame,  see  the  silver-ware,  pawn  your  spoons  and 
pay  me!'  'Take  them  yourself,'  said  the  countess, 
gathering  up  six  covers  and  thrusting  them  into  her 
hand.  We  tumbled  down  the  stairs — ah,  bah!  like 
a  success ! — No,  in  the  street,  the  Mahuchet  began  to 
cry,  for  she  is  a  good  woman ;  she  took  back  the 
covers,  making  her  excuses:  she  had  understood  the 
misery  of  this  countess,  they  were  in  white 
metal!—" 

"She  remained  uncovered,"  said  Leon  de  Lora,  in 
whom  the  ancient  Mistigris  often  reappeared. 

"Ah!  my  dear  Monsieur,"  said  Madame  Nourris- 
son,  enlightened  by  this  pun,  "you  are  an  artist, 
you  make  the  theatre  pieces;  you  live  in  the  Rue 
du  Helder,  and  you  were  with  Madame  Antonia; 
you  have  the  knacks  that  I  know — .  Come,  now,  you 
wish  to  have  some  rarity  in  the  grand  style,  Cara- 
bine, or  Mousqueton,  Malaga  or  Jenny  Cadine?" 

"Malaga,  Carabine!  it  is  we  who  have  made 
them  what  they  are! — "  cried  Leon  de  Lora. 

"I  swear  to  you,  my  dear  Madame  Nourrisson,  that 
we  wished  solely  to  have  the  pleasure  of  making 
your  acquaintance  and  that  we  desire  some  infor- 
mation as  to  your  antecedents,  to  know  by  what 
descent  you  slipped  into  your  trade,"  said  Bixiou. 


356  THE   INVOLUNTARY  COMEDIANS 

"I  was  a  confidential  woman  in  the  house  of  a  mar- 
shal of  France,  the  Prince  d'Ysembourg,"  she  said, 
taking  a  Dorine  attitude.  "One  morning,  there  came 
one  of  the  most  topping  countesses  of  the  Imperial 
Court;  she  wished  to  speak  to  the  marshal,  and 
secretly.  I,  1  placed  myself  immediately  so  that 
1  could  hear.  My  lady  melted  into  tears,  she  con- 
fided to  this  booby  of  a  marshal — the  Prince  d'Ysem- 
bourg, this  Conde  of  the  Republic,  a  booby! — that 
her  husband,  who  was  serving  in  Spain,  had  left  her 
without  a  thousand-franc  note;  that,  if  she  did  not 
have  one  or  two  immediately,  her  children  would  be 
without  bread,  she  would  have  nothing  to  eat  to- 
morrow— .  My  marshal,  sufficiently  generous  at 
that  time,  drew  two  thousand-franc  notes  from  his 
secretary.  I  watched  this  fine  countess  from  the 
stairway  without  her  being  able  to  see  me;  she  was 
laughing  with  a  contentment  that  seemed  so  little 
maternal  that  I  slipped  out  under  the  peristyle,  and 
I  heard  her  say  in  a  very  low  voice  to  her  footman : 
'To  Leroy's!'  I  hastened  there.  My  materfamilias 
entered  the  shop  of  this  famous  merchant,  in 
the  Rue  de  Richelieu,  you  know — .  She  ordered  and 
paid  for  a  dress  fifteen  hundred  francs;  at  that 
time  a  dress  was  settled  for  when  it  was  ordered. 
Two  days  later  she  was  able  to  appear  at  an  am- 
bassador's ball,  adorned  as  a  woman  should  be  to 
please  at  the  same  time  all  the  world  and  some  one 
in  particular.  From  that  day,  I  said  to  myself:  'I 
have  a  business!  When  1  shall  be  no  longer  young, 
I  will    lend   money  on   their  apparel   to   the   great 


THE   INVOLUNTARY  COA^EDIANS  357 

ladies,  for  passion  does  not  calculate  and  pays 
blindly.'  If  it  is  subjects  for  vaudeville  that  you 
are  seeking,  1  will  sell  them  to  you—" 

She  went  off  on  this  tirade,  in  which  each  of  the 
phases  of  her  previous  life  had  left  its  color,  leaving 
Gazonal  as  much  aghast  at  this  confidence  as  at  five 
yellow  teeth  which  she  had  shown  in  endeavoring 
to  smile. 

"And  what  are  we  going  to  do?"  asked  Gazonal. 

"Notes!—"  said  Bixiou,  who  whistled  for  his 
porter,  "for  I  have  need  of  money,  and  1  will  let  you 
see  what  the  porters  are  for;  you  think  that  they 
are  to  pull  the  cords  of  the  front  door,— they  are  to 
pull  out  of  embarrassment  vagabond  people  like  my- 
self, artists  whom  they  take  under  their  protection ; 
thus  some  day,  mine  will  have  the  prize  Montyon. " 

Gazonal  opened  his  eyes  in  such  a  manner  as  to 
make  comprehendable  this  phrase, — an  oeil-de- 
boeuf. 

A  middle-aged  man,  half  lackey  and  half  office- 
boy,  but  more  oily  and  more  oiled,  the  hair  greasy, 
the  stomach  plump,  the  complexion  pale  and  damp 
like  that  of  the  Superior  of  a  convent,  shod  with 
cloth  slippers,  clothed  in  a  vest  of  blue  cloth  and 
grayish  pantaloons,  suddenly  appeared. 

"What  will  you  have,  Monsieur  ?— "  said  he,  with 
an  air  which  partook  at  once  of  the  protector  and  of 
the  subordinate. 

"Ravenouillet— ,  his  name  is  Ravenouillet,"  said 
Bixiou,  turning  toward  Gazonal,  "have  you  our  bill- 
book?'" 


358  THE   INVOLUNTARY  COMEDIANS 

Ravenouillet  drew  from  his  side  pocket  the  most 
glutinous  note-book  that  Gazonal  had  ever  seen. 

"Write  in  it,  at  three  months,  these  two  notes  for 
five  hundred  francs  each  which  you  will  sign  for 
me." 

And  Bixiou  presented  two  notes  already  drawn  to 
his  order  by  Ravenouillet,  which  Ravenouillet  signed 
on  the  spot,  and  which  he  put  down  in  the  greasy 
note-book  in  which  his  wife  recorded  the  debts  of 
the  lodgers. 

"Thanks,  Ravenouillet,"  said  Bixiou.  "Well, 
now,  here  is  a  box  for  the  Vaudeville." 

"Oh!  my  daughter  will  have  a  good  time  this 
evening,"  said  Ravenouillet,  going  away. 

"We  are  here  seventy-one  tenants,"  said  Bixiou; 
"the  average  of  what  is  owed  to  Ravenouillet  is 
about  six  thousand  francs  a  month,  eighteen  thous- 
and francs  every  three  months,  for  advances  and 
carrying  letters,  without  counting  the  rents  due.  It 
is  a  Providence — at  thirty  per  cent,  which  we  give 
to  him  without  his  ever  having  asked  for  any- 
thing—" 

"Oh!  Paris,  Paris — "  cried  Gazonal. 

"When  we  go  away,"  said  Bixiou,  who  pocketed 
the  notes,  "for  I  am  going  to  take  you,  cousin  Ga- 
zonal, to  see  again  a  comedian  who  is  going  to  play 
gratuitously  a  charming  scene — " 

"Where?"  interrupted  Gazonal. 

"At  a  usurer's — .  As  we  go,  I  will  relate  to  you 
the  debut  of  friend  Ravenouillet  in  Paris." 

As  they  passed  before  the  porter's  lodge,  Gazonal 


THE   INVOLUNTARY  COMEDIANS  359 

saw  Mademoiselle  Lucienne  Ravenouillet,  who  was 
studying  a  solfeggio;  she  was  a  pupil  of  the  Con- 
servatoire; the  father  was  reading  a  newspaper,  and 
Madame  Ravenouillet  held  in  her  hand  letters  to  be 
sent  up  to  the  lodgers. 

"Thanks,  Monsieur  Bixiou,"said  the  little  one. 

"It  is  not  a  rat,"  said  Leon  to  his  cousin,  "it  is  a 
chrysalis  of  a  grasshopper." 

"It  appears, "  said  Gazonal,  "that  the  friendship 
of  the  lodge  is  obtained,  like  that  of  all  the  rest  of 
the  world,  by  les  loges — the  lodges — " 

"Which  is  developed  in  our  society !"  cried  Leon, 
charmed  with  the  pun. 

"This  is  the  history  of  Ravenouillet,"  resumed 
Bi.xiou  when  the  three  friends  found  themselves  on 
the  boulevard.  "In  1831,  Massol,  your  Councilor  of 
State,  was  a  journalist-advocate  who  wished  at  that 
time  only  to  be  Keeper  of  the  Seals,  he  deigned  to 
leave  Louis-Philippe  on  the  throne;  but  his  ambition 
will  have  to  be  forgiven,  he  was  from  Carcas- 
sonne. One  morning  he  saw  a  young  country- 
man enter,  who  said  to  him:  'You  know  me  very 
well,  Monsu  Massol,  I  am  the  little  one  of  your 
neighbor,  the  grocer;  I  have  just  come  from  down 
there,  for  they  say  to  us  that  in  coming  here  each 
one  will  find  his  place — '  On  hearing  these  words 
Massol  was  taken  with  a  shudder,  and  said  to  himself 
that,  if  he  had  the  misfortune  to  oblige  this  compa- 
triot, who  was  otherwise  perfectly  unknown  to  him, 
the  whole  department  would  come  tumbling  in  upon 
him;  that  he  would  lose  a  great  many  bell-actions, 


360  THE   INVOLUNTARY  COMEDIANS 

eleven  bell-cords,  his  carpets;  that  his  only  valet 
would  leave  him;  that  he  would  have  difficulties 
with  his  landlord  concerning  the  stairway,  and 
that  the  other  tenants  would  complain  of  the  odor  of 
garlic  and  of  the  commotion  caused  throughout  the 
house.  Therefore,  he  looked  at  this  solicitor  as  a 
butcher  looks  at  his  sheep  before  cutting  its  throat; 
but  although  the  peasant  had  received  this  glance 
or  this  knife-thrust,  he  went  on  in  this  way,  as 
Massol  told  us:  'I  am  ambitious  just  like  any  other, 
and  1  do  not  wish  to  return  to  the  country  in  any 
other  way  but  rich,  if  1  do  return ;  for  Paris  is  the 
antechamber  of  paradise.  It  is  said  that  you  who 
write  in  the  journals,  you  make  here  rain  and  fair 
weather;  that  it  is  enough  for  you  to  ask  to  obtain 
no  matter  what  from  the  government;  but,  if  I  have 
any  abilities,  like  all  of  us,  I  know  myself,  I  have 
no  education;  even  if  I  had  the  means  I  would  not 
know  how  to  write,  and  that  is  a  misfortune,  for  I 
have  ideas ;  I  do  not,  then,  think  to  rival  you ;  I  judge 
myself,  1  would  not  succeeed;  but,  as  you  can  man- 
age anything,  and  as  we  are  almost  brothers,  hav- 
ing played  together  during  our  childhood,  I  count  on 
your  giving  me  a  start  and  your  protecting  me — . 
Oh!  it  is  necessary;  I  want  a  situation,  a  place 
which  is  suitable  to  my  means,  to  what  I  am,  and 
where  I  can  make  my  fortune — . '  Massol  was  about 
to  put  his  pays  out  of  the  door  brutally,  throwing  in 
his  face  some  brutal  phrase,  when  the  countryman 
concluded  thus:  'I  do  not  ask,  then,  to  enter  the 
administration,  where  one  gets  on    like   tortoises, 


THE   INVOLUNTARY  COMEDIANS  36 1 

where  your  cousin  has  remained  traveling  comptrol- 
ler for  twenty  years—.  No,  I  wish  only  to  come 
out — . '  'At  the  theatre? — '  said  Massol  to  him, 
happy  at  this  termination.  'No,  I  have,  well 
enough,  the  gesture,  the  face,  the  memory;  but 
there  is  too  much  pulling;  I  wish  to  make  my  debut 
in  the  career — of  a  porter.'  Massol  kept  his  gravity 
and  said  to  him :  'There  will  be  still  more  pulling  in 
that,  but  at  least  you  will  see  the  lodges  full.'  And 
he  obtained  for  him,  as  Ravenouillet  says,  his  first 
cordon." 

"I  am  the  first,"  Leon  said,  "who  has  seriously 
occupied  himself  with  the  species  portier.  There 
are  sharpers  of  morality,  buffoons  of  vanity,  modern 
sycophants,  septembrisears  *  caparisoned  with 
gravity,  inventors  of  questions  palpitating  with 
actuality  which  preach  the  emancipation  of  the 
negroes,  the  amelioration  of  petty  thieves,  benevo- 
lence toward  liberated  convicts,  and  who  leave  their 
porters  in  a  state  worse  than  that  of  the  Irish,  in 
prisons  more  frightful  than  dungeons,  and  who  give 
them  less  money  to  live  on  than  the  state  gives  for 
a  convict — .  I  have  only  done  one  good  action  in 
my  life,  that  is  the  lodge  of  my  porter." 

"If,"  continued  Bixiou,  "a  man  having  built  great 
cages,  divided  into  a  thousand  apartments  like  the 
cells  of  a  bee-hive  or  the  cages  of  a  menagerie,  and 
destined  to  receive  creatures  of  every  species  and  of 
every  avocation,  if  this  animal  in  the  figure  of  an 

*  Sept embriseurs— the  name  given  to  those  who  took  part  in  the  massacre  of 
September,  179a. 


362  THE   INVOLUNTARY  COMEDIANS 

owner  should  come  to  consult  a  scientist  and  say  to 
him:  'I  want  an  individual  of  the  genus  bimana 
who  can  live  in  a  sink  full  of  old  shoes,  pestiferous 
with  rags,  and  ten  feet  square;  I  want  him  to  live 
there  all  his  life,  to  sleep  there,  to  be  happy  there, 
to  have  children  as  pretty  as  Loves;  that  he  shall 
work  there;  that  he  shall  do  his  cooking  there;  that 
he  shall  promenade  himself  there;  that  he  shall  cul- 
tivate flowers  there ;  that  he  shall  sing  there,  and 
that  he  shall  not  go  out;  that  he  shall  not  see  clearly 
there,  and  that  he  shall  perceive  everything  that 
goes  on  outside! — '  assuredly,  the  scientist  would 
not  have  been  able  to  invent  the  porter;  it  required 
Paris  to  create  him,  or,  if  you  like,  the  devil — " 

"Parisian  industry  has  gone  still  farther  into  the 
impossible,"  said  Gazonal,  "there  are  the  work- 
people— .  You  do  not  know  all  the  products  of  in- 
dustry, you  who  display  them.  Our  industry  com- 
bats that  of  the  continent  by  misfortunes  as,  under 
the  Empire,  Napoleon  combated  Europe  with  regi- 
ments." 

"Here  we  are  at  the  house  of  my  friend  Vauvinet, 
the  usurer,"  snid  Bixiou.  "One  of  the  greatest 
faults  committed  by  the  people  who  depict  our  man- 
ners is  to  repeat  the  old  portraits.  To-day,  every 
profession  has  been  renewed.  The  grocers  become 
peers  of  France,  the  artists  capitalize,  the  vaude- 
villistes  have  incomes  in  Rentes.  If  some  rare 
figures  remain  that  which  they  formerly  were,  in 
general,  the  professions  no  longer  have  their  special 
costume,  nor  their  ancient  manner.     If  we  have  had 


THE   INVOLUNTARY  COMEDIANS  363 

Gobseck,  Gigonnet,  Chaboisseau,  Samanou,  the 
last  of  the  Romans,  we  are  in  the  enjoyment  to-day 
of  Vauvinet,  the  good-fellow  usurer,  little  fop  who 
haunts  the  side-scenes,  the  lorettes,  and  who  takes 
the  air  in  a  little  low  coupe  with  one  horse — .  Ob- 
serve my  man  well,  friend  Gazonal,  you  are  going 
to  see  the  comedy  of  money,  the  cold  man  who 
wishes  to  give  nothing,  the  hot  man  who  suspects  a 
profit;  listen  to  him,  above  all." 

And,  all  three  of  them  entered  the  second  story 
of  a  house  of  a  very  fine  appearance  situated  on 
the  Boulevard  des  Italiens,  and  there  found  them- 
selves surrounded  by  all  the  luxuries  then  in  fash- 
ion. A  young  man  of  about  twenty-eight  came  to 
meet  them  with  an  almost  laughing  air,  for  he  saw 
Leon  de  Lora  first.  Vauvinet  gave  a  hand-clasp, 
in  appearance  the  most  friendly,  to  Bixiou,  saluted 
Gazonal  with  a  cold  air,  and  caused  them  to  enter 
into  a  cabinet,  where  all  the  tastes  of  the  bourgeois 
might  be  divined  under  the  artistic  appearance  of 
the  furnishing,  and,  despite  the  statuettes  il  la 
mode,  the  thousand  little  things  appropriated  to  our 
little  apartments  by  the  modern  art,  which  has  made 
itself  as  little  as  the  consumer.  Vauvinet  was  got- 
ten up,  like  the  young  people  who  occupy  them- 
selves with  business,  with  an  excessive  care,  which, 
for  very  many  of  them,  is  a  species  of  prospectus. 

"1  have  come  to  you  to  get  some  money,"  said 
Bixiou,  laughing,  presenting  his  note. 

Vauvinet  assumed  a  serious  air  which  made  Ga- 
zonal smile,  so  much  difference  was  there  between 


364  THE   INVOLUNTARY  COMEDIANS 

the  smiling  visage  and  that  of  a  discounter  officially- 
occupied. 

"My  dear  fellow,"  said  Vauvinet,  looking  at  Bix- 
iou,  "1  would  oblige  you  with  the  greatest  pleasure, 
but  at  this  moment  1  have  no  money." 

"Ah,  bah!" 

"Yes,  I've  given  everything,  you  know  to  whom. 
— That  poor  Lousteau  has  associated  himself  for  the 
management  of  a  theatre  with  an  old  vaudevilliste 
very  much  protected  by  the  minister — ,  Ridal ;  and 
they  had  to  have  thirty  thousand  francs  yesterday. 
1  am  cleaned  out,  and  so  cleaned  out  that  1  have 
sent  for  some  money  to  Cerizet  to  pay  a  hundred 
louis  lost  at  lansquenet  this  morning,  at  Jenny 
Cadine's — " 

"It  must  be  that  you  are  very  much  cleaned  out 
not  to  oblige  this  poor  Bixiou, "  said  Leon  de  Lora, 
"for  he  has  a  very  short  tongue  when  he  finds  him- 
self by  the  side — " 

"But—"  said  Bixiou,  "1  cannot  say  anything  but 
good  of  Vauvinet;  he  is  full  of  good — " 

"My  dear  fellow,"  resumed  Vauvinet,  "it  would 
be  impossible  for  me,  even  if  I  had  the  money,  to 
discount  for  you,  were  it  at  fifty  per  cent,  notes 
signed  by  your  porter. — The  Ravenouillet  is  not  in 
demand.  It  is  not  like  the  Rothschild.  1  warn  you 
that  this  endorsement  is  quite  worn  out;  it  will  be 
necessary  for  you  to  invent  another  banking-house. 
Look  out  for  an  uncle!  for,  the  friend  who  signs 
notes  for  us,  that  is  no  longer  to  be  had,  the  posi- 
tivism of  the  century  makes  horrible  progress." 


THE   INVOLUNTARY  COMEDIANS  365 

"I  have,"  said  Bixiou,  indicating  Leon's  cousin, 
"I  have  Monsieur, — one  of  our  most  illustrious  cloth 
manufacturers  of  the  Midi,  named  Gazonal. — He  is 
not  very  well  coiffe,"  he  resumed,  looking  at  the 
luxuriant  and  upright  head  of  hair  of  the  provincial; 
"but  I  am  going  to  take  him  to  Marius,  who  will 
relieve  him  of  this  resemblance  to  a  poodle,  so  in- 
jurious to  his  consideration  and  to  ours." 

"1  do  not  believe  much  in  the  securities  of  the 
Midi,  be  it  said  without  offence  to  Monsieur,"  replied 
Vauvinet,  who  rendered  Gazonal  very  well  con- 
tent, for  he  was  not  in  the  least  vexed  at  this  inso- 
lence. 

Gazonal,  in  his  character  of  an  excessively 
shrewd  man,  believed  that  the  painter  and  Bixiou 
intended,  in  order  to  make  him  acquainted  with 
Paris,  to  make  him  pay  a  thousand  francs  for  the 
dejeuner  of  the  Cafe  de  Paris;  for  the  son  of  the 
Roussillon  had  not  abandoned  that  prodigious  sus- 
picion which  in  Paris  fortifies  the  man  from  the 
provinces. 

"How  would  you  have  me  have  business  relations 
at  two  hundred  and  fifty  leagues  from  Paris,  in  the 
Pyrenees?"  added  Vauvinet. 

"Then  that  i*s  all?"  replied  Bixiou. 

"I  have  twenty  francs  about  me,"  said  the  young 
discounter. 

"I  am  sorry  for  you,"  replied  the  joker.  "I 
thought  that  you  were  worth  a  thousand  francs,"  he 
added,  dryly. 

"You   are  worth  a   hundred    thousand   francs," 


366  THE   INVOLUNTARY  COMEDIANS 

replied  Vauvinet,  "sometimes  even  you  are  inesti- 
mable,— but  I  am  cleaned  out." 

"Well,"  replied  Bixiou,  "let  us  say  no  more 
about  it — .  I  would  have  arranged  for  you  this  even- 
ing, at  the  Carabine's,  the  best  affair  that  you 
could  have  wished, — you  know?" 

Vauvinet  winked  in  looking  at  Bixiou,  a  grimace 
of  the  horse  dealers  which  says  between  themselves : 
"Let  us  not  play  sharp  with  each  other." 

"You  no  longer  remember  having  taken  me  around 
the  waist,  exactly  like  a  pretty  woman,  and  wheed- 
ling me  with  looks  and  with  words,"  replied  Bixiou, 
"when  you  said  to  me:  'I  will  do  anything  for  you 
if  you  can  procure  me  at  par  shares  of  the  railroad 
which  Du  Tillet  and  Nucingen  put  on  the  market.' 
Well,  my  dear  fellow,  Maxime  and  Nucingen  are 
coming  to  Carabine's,  who  is  receiving  this  evening 
a  great  many  men  in  political  life.  You  are  losing 
there,  my  old  fellow,  a  beautiful  opportunity. 
Come,  good  day,  dabbler!" 

And  Bixiou  arose,  leaving  Vauvinet  sufficiently 
unmoved  in  appearance,  but  really  dissatisfied,  like 
a  man  who  is  conscious  of  having  committed  a  folly. 

"My  dear  fellow,  a  moment, — "  said  the  dis- 
counter; "if  1  have  no  money,  I  have  credit. — If  your 
notes  are  worth  nothing  I  can  keep  them  and  give 
you  in  exchange  securities  in  bills — .  Afterwards, 
we  can  come  to  an  arrangement  about  the  railway 
shares;  we  will  divide,  in  a  certain  proportion,  the 
profits  of  this  operation,  and  I  will  then  make  you  a 
remittance  on  account  of  the  prof — " 


THE   INVOLUNTARY  COMEDIANS  367 

"No,  no,"  replied  Bixiou,  "I  must  have  some 
money ;  it  is  necessary  that  I  should  use  my  Raven- 
ouillet— " 

"Ravenouillet  is  otherwise  very  good,"  said 
Vauvinet;  "he  deposits  in  the  savings-bank,  he  is 
excellent—" 

"He  is  better  than  you,"  said  Leon  to  him,  "for 
he  does  not  keep  a  lorette ;  he  has  no  rent  to  pay ;  he 
does  not  embark  in  speculations  fearing  all  the  time 
the  rise  or  the  fall—" 

"You  think  to  amuse,  great  man?"  replied  Vau- 
vinet, suddenly  become  jovial  and  caressing;  "you 
have  got  out  the  quintessence  of  La  Fontaine's 
fable,  The  Oak  and  the  Reed. — Come,  Gubetta, 
my  old  confederate,"  said  Vauvinet,  taking  Bixiou 
by  the  waist,  "you  must  have  some  money?  very 
well,  I  can  just  as  well  borrow  three  thousand  francs 
from  my  friend  Cerizet,  instead  of  two  thousand. — 
And  we  will  be  friends,  Cinna!—  Give  me  your  two 
giant  cabbage-leaves.  If  I  refused  you,  it  was  be- 
cause it  was  very  hard  for  a  man  who  can  only  carry 
on  his  poor  business  by  depositing  his  securities 
with  the  Bank,  to  keep  your  Ravenouillet  in  his 
bureau  drawer, — it  is  hard,  it  is  very  hard. — " 

"And  what  will  you  take  for  discount?"  asked 
Bixiou. 

"Almost  nothing,"  replied  Vauvinet.  "That  will 
cost  you,  at  three  months,  fifty  unhappy  francs — . " 

"As  Emile  Blondet  said  formerly,  you  will  be  my 
benefactor,"  replied  Bixiou. 

"Twenty  per  cent  and  interest!"  saidGazonal  in 


I 


368  THE   INVOLUNTARY  COMEDIANS 

Bixiou's  ear,  who  replied  to  him  by  a  great  poke 
with  his  elbow  in  the  region  of  the  oesophagus. 

"Wait,"  said  Vauvinet,  opening  the  drawer  of  his 
bureau;  "I  see  here,  my  good  fellow,  an  old  note  of 
five  hundred  which  has  stuck  to  the  band  and  1  did 
not  know  myself  so  rich,  for  I  find  for  you  a  bill 
receivable  due  very  soon,  of  four  hundred  and  fifty. 
Cerizet  will  lend  it  to  you  without  much  rebate, 
and  there  is  your  sum  made  up.  But  no  joking, 
Bixiou? — .  Hein!  this  evening,  I  will  go  to  Cara- 
bine's— you  swear  to  me" 

"Are  we  not  r^-friends?"  said  Bixiou,  who  took 
the  five -hundred-franc  bill  and  the  note  for  four 
hundred  and  fifty  francs;  "1  give  you  my  word  of 
honor  that  you  will  see  this  evening  Du  Tillet  and  a 
number  of  other  people  who  wish  to  make  their  way, 
— railway,  with  Carabine." 

Vauvinet  conducted  the  three  friends  as  far  as  the 
landing,  wheedling  Bixiou.  Bixiou  remained  seri- 
ous until  upon  the  threshold  of  the  door;  he  was  lis- 
tening to  Gazonal,  who  endeavored  to  enlighten  him 
upon  this  operation  and  who  proved  to  him  that,  if 
the  confederate  of  Vauvinet,  this  Cerizet,  lent  him  at 
twenty  francs  of  discount  on  a  note  of  four  hundred 
and  fifty  francs  it  was  money  at  forty  per  cent. — On 
the  asphalt  of  the  pavement,  Bixiou  froze  Gazonal 
by  the  laugh  of  the  Parisian  mystifier,  this  silent 
and  cold  laugh,  a  sort  of  labial  north-easter. 

"The  adjudication  of  the  railway  will  be  positively 
adjourned  in  the  Chamber,"  he  said;  "we  know  it 
since  yesterday  through  that  marcheuse  at  whom 


THE   INVOLUNTARY  COMEDIANS  369 

we  have  smiled. — And,  if  I  gain  this  evening  five 
or  six  thousand  francs  at  lansquenet,  what  are 
seventy  francs  of  loss  for  having  the  wherewithal  to 
stake!"— 

"Lansquenet  is  still  one  of  the  thousand  facets  of 
Paris  as  it  is,"  resumed  Leon.  "Thus,  cousin,  we 
count  on  presenting  you  in  the  house  of  a  duchess 
of  the  Rue  Saint-Georges,  where  you  will  see  the 
aristocracy  of  the  lorettes  and  where  you  can  gain 
your  lawsuit.  Now,  it  is  impossible  to  show  you 
with  your  Pyrenean  hair;  you  have  the  appearance 
of  a  hedgehog;  we  are  going  to  conduct  you  near 
here  in  the  Place  de  la  Bourse,  to  Marius,  another 
of  our  actors — " 

"Who  is  this  new  actor?" 

"Here  is  the  anecdote,"  replied  Bixiou.  "In 
1800,  a  Toulousian  named  Cabot,  a  young  peruke- 
maker  devoured  with  ambition,  came  to  Paris,  and 
there  lifted  a  shop — I  adopt  your  slang. — This 
man  of  genius — he  enjoys  twenty-four  thousand 
francs  income  at  Libourne,  where  he  has  retired — 
comprehended  that  this  common  and  ignoble  name 
would  never  attain  to  fame.  Monsieur  de  Parny, 
whom  he  served,  gave  him  the  name  of  Marius,  in- 
finitely superior  to  the  Christian  names  of  Armand 
and  of  Hippolyte,  under  which  hid  themselves  the 
patronymic  names  attacked  with  the  Cabot-disease. 
All  the  successors  of  Cabot  are  called  Marius.  The 
present  Marius  is  Marius  V.  ;  his  name  is  Mougin. 
This  is  the  custom  in  many  trades,  as  for  the  eau 
de  Botot,  for  the  ink  de  la  Petite-Vertu.  At  Paris, 
24 


370  THE   INVOLUNTARY  COMEDIANS 

a  name  becomes  a  commercial  property  and  ends  by 
constituting  a  sort  of  sign  of  nobility.  Marius, 
who  moreover  has  pupils,  has  created,  he  says,  the 
first  school  of  coiffure  in  the  world." 

"I  have  already  seen,  in  traveling  through 
France,"  said  Gazonal,  "a  number  of  signs  on 
which  might  be  read  these  words:  'SUCH  A  ONE, 
Pupil  of  Marius.'  " 

"These  pupils  must  wash  their  hands  after  each 
curling  and  dressing,"  replied  Bixiou;  "but  Marius 
does  not  admit  them  indiscriminately;  they  must 
have  handsome  hands  and  not  be  ugly.  The  most 
remarkable  in  address,  in  appearance,  serve  their 
customers  in  their  own  houses;  they  return  very 
much  fatigued.  Marius  himself  only  leaves  his 
establishment  for  women  with  titles ;  he  has  a  cabri- 
olet and  a  groom." 

"But  this  is  after  all  only  a  merlan!  (journeyman 
hair-dresser),"  cried  Gazonal,  indignantly. 

"Merlan!"  replied  Bixiou;  "remember  that  he  is 
a  captain  in  the  National  Guard  and  that  he  is  dec- 
orated for  having  been  the  first  to  leap  a  barricade  in 
1832." 

"Take  care;  this  is  neither  a  coiffure  nor  a 
perruquier,  this  is  a  director  of  salons  of  coiffure," 
said  Leon,  as  they  mounted  a  stairway  with  a 
crystal  balustrade,  with  a  mahogany  rail,  and  the 
steps  of  which  were  covered  with  a  sumptuous 
carpet. 

"Ah,  there!  do  not  go  and  compromise  us,"  said 
Bixiou  to  Gazonal:    "In  the  antechamber,  you  will 


THE   INVOLUNTARY  COMEDIANS  37 1 

find  lackeys  who  will  relieve  you  of  your  coat,  your 
hat,  to  brush  them,  and  who  will  accompany  you  to 
the  door  of  one  of  the  salons  de  coiffure,  to  open 
and  shut  it.  It  is  well  to  tell  you  this,  my  friend 
Gazonal,"  added  Bixiou,  slyly,  "for  you  might  cry 
out:  'Help,  thieves!'  " 

"These  salons,"  said  Leon,  "are  three  boudoirs 
in  which  the  director  has  assembled  all  the  inven- 
tions of  modern  luxury.  At  the  windows  are  lam- 
brequins; everywhere  are  jardinieres,  luxurious 
divans,  on  which  you  can  await  your  turn  while 
reading  the  papers,  when  all  the  attendants  are  oc- 
cupied. When  you  enter  you  may  feel  for  your 
purse,  thinking  that  at  least  five  francs  will  be 
demanded  of  you ;  but  there  is  extracted  from  every 
species  of  pocket  only  ten  sous  for  a  frisure,  and 
twenty  sous  for  a  coiffure  with  cutting  the  hair. 
Elegant  dressing-tables  are  interspersed  among  the 
jardinieres,  and  the  water  flows  from  them  through 
brass  taps.  Everywhere  enormous  mirrors  reflect 
the  figures.  Therefore,  do  not  show  any  astonish- 
ment. When  the  client — such  is  the  elegant  word 
substituted  by  Marius  for  the  ignoble  word  customer 
— when  the  client  appears  on  the  threshold,  Marius 
gives  him  a  glance  and  he  is  gauged, — for  him, 
you  are  a  head  more  or  less  worthy  of  his  attention. 
For  Marius,  there  are  no  longer  any  men,  there  are 
only  heads." 

"We  are  going  to  let  you  hear  Marius  in  all  the 
tones  of  his  gamut,"  said  Bixiou,  "if  you  know  how 
to  imitate  our  methods." 


372  THE   INVOLUNTARY  COMEDIANS 

As  soon  as  Gazonal  appeared,  the  rapid  glance  of 
Marius  was  favorable  to  him,  and  he  exclaimed: 

"Regulus !  that  head  for  you !  clip  it  first  with  the 
little  scissors." 

"Pardon,"  said  Gazonal  to  the  pupil,  at  a  gesture 
from  Bixiou,  "I  desire  to  have  my  head  dressed  by 
Monsieur  Marius  himseif. " 

Marius,  very  much  flattered  by  this  preference, 
came  forward,  leaving  the  head  on  which  he  was 
operating. 

"I  am  at  your  service;  I  am  finishing,  do  not  be 
uneasy;  my  pupil  will  prepare  you;  I  alone,  1  will 
decide  on  the  cut." 

Marius,  a  little  pock-marked  man,  the  hair  friz- 
zled like  that  of  Rubini,  black  as  jet,  and  dressed 
all  in  black  with  ruffles,  the  jabot  of  his  shirt 
ornamented  with  a  diamond,  then  recognized 
Bixiou,  whom  he  saluted  as  a  power  equal  to 
his  own. 

"It  is  an  ordinary  head,"  he  said  to  Leon,  indi- 
cating the  gentleman  with  whom  he  was  then  occu- 
pied, "a  grocer! — .  What  will  you  have!  if  one 
were  occupied  with  nothing  but  art,  one  would  die 
in  the  Bicetre,  mad! — " 

And  he  returned  with  an  inimitable  gesture  to  his 
client,  after  having  said  to  Regulus: 

"Attend  to  Monsieur;  he  is  evidently  an  artist." 

"A  journalist,"  said  Bixiou. 

At  this  word,  Marius  gave  two  or  three  touches 
with  the  comb  to  the  commonplace  head,  and  threw 
himself  on  Gazonal,  taking  Regulus  by  the  arm  at 


THE    INVOLUNTARY  COMEDIANS  373 

the  moment  when  he  was  about  to  commence  opera- 
tions with  his  little  scissors. 

"1  will  take  charge  of  Monsieur. — See,  Monsieur," 
said  he  to  the  grocer,  "look  at  yourself  in  the  large 
mirror,  if  the  mirror  will  permit. — Ossian!" 

The  lackey  entered  and  took  possession  of  the 
client  to  dress  him. 

"You  will  pay  the  cashier,  Monsieur,"  said 
Marius  to  the  stupefied  customer,  who  had  already 
produced  his  purse. 

"Is  it  very  advantageous,  my  dear  fellow,  to  pro- 
ceed with  this  operation  of  the  little  scissors?"  said 
Bixiou. 

"No  head  comes  to  me  until  it  has  been  cleansed, " 
replied  the  illustrious  coiffeur;  "butfor  you,  I  will  do 
that  of  Monsieur  altogether.  My  pupils  make  the 
preliminary  sketch,  for  1  do  not  attend  to  that.  The 
phrase  of  all  the  world  is  yours:  'To  be  coiffe  by 
Marius!'  I  can  only  give  the  finishing  touch. — On 
what  journal  is  Monsieur  engaged?" 

"In  your  place,  I  would  have  three  or  four  Mari- 
uses, "  said  Gazonal. 

"Ah!  Monsieur,  I  see,  is  a  feuilletonist?"  said 
Marius.  "Alas!  in  hairdressing,  in  which  one  is 
obliged  to  act  personally,  it  is  impossible — . 
Pardon!" 

He  left  Gazonal  to  go  and  oversee  Regulus,  who 
was  preparing  a  newly-arrived  head.  By  striking 
his  tongue  against  the  palate  he  produced  a  little 
disapproving  sound  which  might  be  translated  by 
"titttitt,  titt!" 


374  THE   INVOLUNTARY  COMEDIANS 

"Come,  bon  Dieu!  that  is  not  square  enough; 
your  scissors  are  cutting  jaggedly — .  Wait — see! 
Regulus,  it  is  not  a  question  of  clipping  poodles,  but 
of  men  who  have  their  own  character ;  and,  if  you 
continue  to  look  at  the  ceiling  instead  of  dividing 
yourself  between  the  mirror  and  the  face,  you  will 
dishonor  my  house." 

"You  are  severe,  Monsieur  Marius." 

"1  owe  to  them  the  secrets  of  the  art — " 

"It  is,  then,  an  art?"  said  Gazonal. 

Marius,  indignant,  looked  at  Gazonal  in  the  mirror 
and  stood  motionless,  the  comb  in  one  hand,  the 
scissors  in  the  other. 

"Monsieur,  you  speak  about  it  like  a — child!  and 
yet,  by  your  accent,  you  appear  to  be  of  the  South, 
the  land  of  men  of  genius." 

"Yes,  I  know  that  it  requires  a  sort  of  taste," 
replied  Gazonal. 

"Oh!  keep  silent,  Monsieur!  I  expected  better 
things  of  you.  That  is  to  say  that  a  coiffeur,  I  do 
not  say  a  good  coiffeur,  for  one  is  or  one  is  not  a 
coiffeur, — a  coiffeur, — it  is  more  difficult  to  find — 
than — ,  what  is  it  that  1  can  best  say  ? — than  a,  I  do 
not  know  what,  a  minister — keep  your  place — no, 
for  one  cannot  judge  of  the  value  of  a  minister,  the 
streets  are  full  of  ministers — .  A  Paganini? — no, 
that  is  not  enough! — A  coiffeur,  Monsieur,  a  man 
who  divines  your  soul  and  your  habits  in  order  to 
arrange  your  hair  according  to  your  physiognomy, 
it  is  necessary  for  him  to  have  that  which  consti- 
tutes a  philosopher.    And  the  women,  then ! — .    Ah ! 


THE   INVOLUNTARY  COMEDIANS  375 

the  women  appreciate  us;  they  know  what  we  are 
worth  to  them, — it  is  we  who  bring  the  conquest 
which  they  wish  to  make  the  day  on  which  they 
have  their  hair  arranged  to  carry  off  a  victory; — 
that  it  to  say  that  a  coiffeur,  one  does  not  know 
what  he  is.  Hold,  I  who  speak  to  you,  I  am  nearly 
that  which  might  be  found  of — ,  without  praising 
myself,  I  am  known — .  Eh!  well,  no,  I  find  that 
there  should  be  something  better — .  The  execu- 
tion, that  is  the  thing!  Ah!  if  the  women  would 
only  give  me  carte  blanche,  if  I  could  execute  all 
the  ideas  that  come  to  me ! — for  I  have,  do  you  see, 
an  infernal  imagination! — but  the  women  do  not 
lend  themselves  to  it;  they  have  their  plans,  they 
will  stick  you  their  fingers  or  their  comb,  when  you 
have  gone,  into  our  delicious  edifices,  which  should 
remain  grave  and  reserved,  for  our  works,  Monsieur, 
only  endure  for  a  few  hours — .  A  great  coiffeur, 
eh!  that  would  be  something  like  Careme  and  Ves- 
tris,  in  their  parts — .  The  head  this  way,  there, 
if  you  please,  /  am  doing  the  faces;  good. — Our  pro- 
fession is  spoiled  by  the  bunglers  who  comprehend 
neither  their  epoch  nor  their  art — .  There  are 
dealers  in  wigs  and  in  washes  to  make  the  hair 
grow, — they  see  in  it  only  so  many  bottles  to  sell 
you ! — that  is  pitiful ! — that  is  business.  These 
miserables  cut  the  hair  or  they  dress  it  anyway 
they  can ! — .  I,  when  I  arrived  here  from  Toulouse, 
I  entertained  the  ambition  to  succeed  to  the  great 
Marius,  to  be  a  true  Marius,  and  to  illustrate  the 
name,  in  myself  alone,  more  than  the  four  others. 


376  THE  INVOLUNTARY  COMEDIANS 

I  said  to  myself,  'To  conquer  or  die' — There,  hold 
yourself  straight,  I  am  about  to  finish  you  off. — 
It  was  I  who,  first,  employed  elegance.  I  have  ren- 
dered my  salons  an  object  of  curiosity.  I  disdain 
advertising,  and  that  which  advertising  costs,  I 
will  put  it,  Monsieur,  in  comfort,  in  embellishment. 
Next  year,  I  will  have  in  a  little  salon  a  quartette; 
they  will  furnish  music,  and  of  the  best.  Yes,  it 
is  necessary  to  charm  the  weariness  of  those  who 
are  having  their  hair  dressed.  I  do  not  conceal 
from  myself  the  discomforts  of  the  operation. — Look 
at  yourself. — To  have  one's  hair  dressed,  it  is 
fatiguing,  perhaps  as  much  so  as  to  pose  for  one's 
portrait;  and  Monsieur  knows  perhaps  that  the 
famous  Monsieur  de  Humboldt — I  knew  how  to 
make  the  most  of  the  little  hair  that  America  had 
left  him;  science  has  this  in  common  with  the 
savage,  that  it  scalps  its  man  very  well — this  illus- 
trious scientist  has  said  that  after  the  pain  of  being 
hanged — se  faire  pendre — ,  there  was  that  of  going 
to  be  painted — se  faire  peindre; — but,  according  to 
certain  women,  I  should  place  that  of  having  the 
hair  dressed  before  that  of  being  painted.  Well, 
Monsieur,  I  wish  that  people  might  come  to  have 
their  hair  dressed  for  pleasure. — You  have  a  lock  of 
hair  which  should  be  kept  in  place. — A  Jew  pro- 
posed to  me  Italian  cantatrices  who,  between  the 
acts,  should  attend  to  the  hair  of  the  young  men  of 
forty;  but  they  are  all  to  be  found  in  the  condition 
of  young  girls  at  the  Conservatoire,  of  teachers  of 
the  piano  in  the  Rue  Montmartre.     There  you  are, 


THE  INVOLUNTARY  COMEDIANS  377 

Monsieur,  dressed  as  a  man  of  talent  should  be. — 
Ossian,"  said  he  to  his  lackey  in  livery,  "brush 
Monsieur  and  show  him  out. — Whose  turn  next?" 
he  added  with  pride,  looking  at  the  persons  who 
were  waiting. 

"Do  not  laugh,  Gazonal,"  said  Leon  to  his  cousin 
as  they  reached  the  bottom  of  the  stairway,  from 
which  his  eye  wandered  over  the  Place  de  la 
Bourse,  "I  see  down  there  one  of  our  great  men, — you 
will  be  able  to  compare  his  speech  with  that  of  this 
workman,  and  you  can  tell  me,  after  having  heard 
him,  which  of  these  two  is  the  more  original." 

"Do  not  laugh,  Gazonal,"  said  Bixiou,  repeating 
facetiously  Leon's  intonation.  "In  what  do  you 
think  Marius  is  occupied?" 

"In  hair-dressing." 

"He  has  acquired,"  replied  Bixiou,  "the  monop- 
oly of  the  sale  of  hair  in  bulk,  as  any  dealer  in  pro- 
visions who  comes  to  sell  us  a  dish  for  an  ecu 
claims  for  himself  that  of  the  sale  of  truffles ;  he  dis- 
counts the  paper  of  his  business;  he  lends  on  se- 
curity to  his  clients  when  they  are  embarrassed;  he 
deals  in  annuities,  he  gambles  at  the  Bourse;  he  is 
a  shareholder  in  all  the  fashion  journals;  finally,  he 
sells,  through  a  druggist,  an  infamous  remedy 
which,  for  his  share,  gives  him  thirty  thousand 
francs  a  year,  and  which  costs  a  hundred  thousand 
francs  in  advertising." 

"Is  it  possible?"  cried  Gazonal. 

"Retain  this  in  your  memory,"  said  Bixiou, 
gravely.     "In  Paris,   there   is  no  small   business; 


378  THE   INVOLUNTARY  COMEDIANS 

everything  enlarges  itself,  from  the  sale  of  rags  up 
to  that  of  matches.  The  lemonade-seller  who,  with 
a  napkin  under  his  arm,  sees  you  enter  his  shop,  may 
have  an  income  of  fifty  thousand  francs;  a  waiter 
in  a  restaurant  is  an  eligible  elector,  and  such  a  man 
whom  you  would  take  for  a  very  poor  one,  to  see 
him  passing  in  the  street,  carries  in  his  waistcoat  a 
hundred  thousand  francs'  worth  of  diamonds  to  have 
them  mounted,  and  does  not  steal  them—" 

The  three  inseparables,  for  this  day  at  least,  went 
along  under  the  direction  of  the  landscape-painter 
in  such  a  manner  that  they  ran  against  a  man  of 
about  forty,  wearing  a  decoration,  who  came  from 
the  boulevard  by  the  Rue  Neuve-Vivienne. 

"Well,"  said  Leon,  "what  are  you  dreaming  of, 
my  dear  Dubourdieu?  of  what  fine  symbolic  com- 
position?—My  dear  cousin,  I  have  the  pleasure 
of  presenting  to  you  our  illustrious  painter 
Dubourdieu,  not  less  celebrated  by  his  talent  than 
by  his  humanitarian  convictions.— Dubourdieu,  my 
cousin  Palafox!" 

Dubourdieu,  a  little  man  with  a  pale  complexion, 
with  a  melancholy  blue  eye,  slightly  saluted  Ga- 
zonal,  who  bowed  before  the  man  of  genius. 

"You  have  then  nominated  Stidmann  in  the  place 

of—?" 

"What  would  you  have!  I  was  not  in  it,"  replied 

the  great  landscapist. 

"You  bring  the  Academy  into  disesteem,"  replied 
the  painter.  "To  choose  such  a  man,  I  do  not 
wish   to   speak    evil   of  him,  but    he    makes   it  a 


THE   INVOLUNTARY  COMEDIANS  379 

trade! — .  To  what  point  would  you  conduct  the 
first  of  the  arts,  that  of  which  the  works  are  the 
most  durable,  which  portrays  the  nations  after  the 
world  has  lost  all  trace  of  them,  even  their  memory, 
— which  consecrates  the  great  men?  It  is  a  priest- 
hood, sculpture ;  it  resumes  the  thoughts  of  an  epoch, 
and  you  want  to  recruit  it  with  a  maker  of  images 
and  of  chimneys,  an  ornamentalist,  one  of  the 
hawkers  in  the  Temple!  Ah!  as  Chamfort  said,  it 
is  necessary  to  commence  the  day  by  swallowing 
a  viper  every  morning  in  order  to  support  life  in 
Paris. — At  least,  art  remains  to  us;  we  cannot  be 
hindered  from  cultivating  it." 

"And  then,  my  dear  fellow,  you  have  a  consola- 
tion which  few  artists  possess,  the  future  is  yours," 
said  Bixiou.  "When  the  world  shall  be  converted 
to  our  doctrine,  you  will  be  at  the  head  of  your  art, 
for  you  bring  to  it  ideas  which  will  be  comprehended 
when  they  shall  have  been  generalized!  In  fifty 
years  from  now  you  will  be  for  all  the  world  what 
you  are  now  only  for  a  few,  a  great  man!  Only,  it 
is  a  question  of  going  that  far !" 

"I  am  going,"  replied  the  artist,  whose  counte- 
nance dilated  as  does  that  of  a  man  whose  hobby  is 
flattered,  "to  finish  the  allegorical  figure  of  Har- 
mony, and  if  you  will  come  to  see  it  you  will  read- 
ily comprehend  how  it  is  that  1  have  been  able  to 
spend  two  years  upon  it.  There  is  in  it  every- 
thing! At  the  very  first  glance,  you  will  perceive 
the  destiny  of  the  globe.  The  queen  holds  a  pas- 
toral staff  in  one  hand,  symbol  of  the  aggrandizement 


380  THE  INVOLUNTARY  COMEDIANS 

of  the  races  useful  to  mankind;  she  wears  on  her 
head  the  liberty  cap,  her  breasts  are  sextuple  in 
the  Egyptian  fashion,  for  the  Egyptians  anticipated 
Fourier;  her  feet  rest  upon  two  joined  hands  which 
embrace  the  globe  as  the  sign  of  the  fraternity  of 
the  human  races;  she  tramples  upon  cannon,  broken 
to  signify  the  abolition  of  war,  and  I  have  endeav- 
ored to  make  her  express  the  serenity  of  triumphant 
agriculture. — 1  have,  moreover,  placed  near  her  an 
enormous  curied  colewort  which,  according  to  our 
master,  is  the  image  of  concord.  Oh !  it  is  not  one 
of  the  least  of  Fourier's  titles  to  veneration  that  he 
has  restored  meanings  to  plants,  he  has  re-united  all 
things  in  creation  by  the  reciprocal  signification  of 
things  and  also  by  their  special  language.  In  a 
hundred  years,  the  world  will  be  much  greater  than 
it  is—"  * 

"And  how,  Monsieur,  will  that  be  done?"  said 
Gazonal,  stupefied  to  hear  a  man  speak  in  this  man- 
ner outside  of  an  insane  asylum. 

"By  the  extent  of  production.  If  one  were  will- 
ing to  apply  THE  SYSTEM,  it  would  not  be  impossi- 
ble to  react  upon  the  stars — " 

"And  what  would  then  become  of  painting?" 
asked  Gazonal. 

"It  would  be  greater." 

"And  would  we  have  greater  eyes?"  said  Gazo- 
nal, looking  at  his  two  friends  with  a  significant  air. 

"Man  would  become  that  which  he  was  before  his 
degeneracy;  our  men  of  six  feet  would  then  be 
dwarfs — " 


JS.Q>i>Vvrpxti»^ilwrftV*i^^vr>rv>  ^'>*^'M-w™^w x 


/.«-■'..!..'■.-, 


THE   INVOLUNTARY  COMEDIANS  38 1 

"Your  picture,"  said  Leon,  "is  it  finished?" 

"Entirely  finished,"  replied  Dubourdieu.  "I  have 
endeavored  to  see  Hiclar  to  have  him  compose  a 
symphony;  1  would  that  in  seeing  this  composition 
one  should  hear  music  like  Beethoven's  which 
should  develop  the  ideas  expressed  in  it  in  order  to 
bring  them  to  the  level  of  intelligent  comprehension 
by  two  methods.  Ah!  if  the  government  would 
-    lend  me  one  of  the  halls  of  the  Louvre—" 

"But  1  will  speak  of  it,  if  you  wish,  for  nothing 
should  be  neglected  to  attract  attention — " 

"Oh!  my  friends  are  preparing  some  articles,  but 
I  am  afraid  that  they  will  go  too  far — " 

"Bah!"  said  Bixiou,  "they  will  not  go  so  far  as 
the  future — " 

Dubourdieu  looked  at  Bixiou  askance,  and  con- 
tinued on  his  way. 

"But  he  is  crazy,"  said  Gazonal ;  "it  is  the  moon 
that  guides  him." 

"He  has  the  hand,  he  has  the  knowledge, — "  said 
Leon;  "but  Fourieiism  has  killed  him.  You  may 
see  there,  cousin,  one  of  the  effects  of  ambition  on 
artists.  Too  often,  at  Paris,  in  the  desire  to  arrive 
more  quickly  than  by  the  natural  way  at  that  celeb- 
rity which  is  for  them  fortune,  the  artists  borrow 
wings  from  circumstances ;  they  think  to  make  them- 
selves greater  in  making  themselves  the  men  of  one 
thing,  in  becoming  the  sustainers  of  a  system,  and 
they  hope  to  change  a  clique  into  a  public.  Such 
a  one  is  Republican,  such  another  was  Saint- 
Simonian,  such  a  one  is  aristocratic,  such  a  one  is 


382  THE  INVOLUNTARY  COMEDIANS 

Catholic,  such  a  one  just  medium,  such  a  one  me- 
diaeval, or  German,  by  deliberate  choice.  But,  if 
the  opinion  does  not  give  the  talent,  it  always  ruins 
it;  witness  the  poor  fellow  whom  we  have  just  seen. 
The  opinion  of  an  artist  should  be  the  faith  in  his 
works, — and  his  only  means  of  success,  work,  when 
nature  has  given  him  the  sacred  fire." 

"Let  us  escape,"  said  Bixiou,  "Leon  is  moraliz- 
ing." 

"And  this  man  acts  in  good  faith?"  exclaimed 
Gazonal,  still  stupefied. 

"In  very  good  faith,"  replied  Bixiou;  "as sincere 
as  was  just  now  the  king  of  the  merlans." 

"He  is  crazy!"  said  Gazonal. 

"And  he  is  not  the  only  one  whom  Fourier's  ideas 
have  rendered  crazy,"  said  Bixiou.  "You  know 
nothing  of  Paris.  Ask  of  it  a  hundred  thousand 
francs  to  realize  the  most  useful  idea  for  the  human 
species,  to  try  something  like  the  steam  engine, 
you  will  die  there  like  Salomon  de  Caus,  in  the 
Bicetre;  but,  if  it  is  a  question  of  a  paradox,  you 
will  let  yourself  be  killed  for  it,  you  and  your 
fortune.  Well,  here,  it  is  with  systems  as  it  is 
with  things.  The  impossible  publications  brought 
out  here  have  devoured  millions  within  the  last 
fifteen  years.  That  which  renders  your  case  so 
difficult  to  gain  is  that  you  are  right,  and  that 
there  are,  according  to  you,  secret  reasons  for  the 
prefect." 

"Do  you  imagine  that  when  he  has  once  com- 
prehended  the   moral    aspect  of   Paris,   a   man   of 


THE   INVOLUNTARY  COMEDIANS  383 

intelligence  could  live  elsewhere?"  said  Leon  to  his 
cousin. 

"If  we  take  Gazonal  to  the  Mere  Fontaine,"  said 
Bixiou,  who  made  a  sign  to  a  closed  public  coach  to 
come  forward,  "that  would  be  to  pass  from  the 
severe  to  the  fantastic  ? — Coachman,  Rue  Vieille-du- 
Temple. " 

And  they  all  three  rolled  away  in  the  direction  of 
the  Marais. 

"What  are  you  going  to  show  me?"  asked  Ga- 
zonal. 

"The  proof  of  that  which  Bixiou  said  to  you," 
replied  Leon,  "by  showing  you  a  woman  who  makes 
twenty  thousand  francs  a  year  by  exploiting  an 
idea." 

"A  fortune-teller!"  said  Bixiou,  who  could  not 
refrain  from  interpreting  as  an  interrogation  the 
Southerner's  air.  "Madame  Fontaine  passes,  among 
those  who  seek  to  know  the  future,  for  being  wiser 
than  was  the  late  Mademoiselle  Lenormand. " 

"She  ought  to  be  very  rich !"  exclaimed  Gazonal. 

"She  has  been  the  victim  of  her  idea,  as  long  as 
the  lottery  existed,"  replied  Bixiou;  "for,  at  Paris, 
there  are  no  great  receipts  without  great  expenses. 
All  the  strong  heads  come  to  grief  in  this  way,  as 
if  to  give  a  safety-valve  to  their  steam.  All  those 
who  earn  a  great  deal  of  money  have  vices  or 
fancies,  doubtless  to  establish  an  equilibrium." 

"And  now  that  the  lottery  is  abolished? — "  asked 
Gazonal. 

"Well,  she  has  a  nephew  for  whom  she  saves." 


384  THE  INVOLUNTARY  COMEDIANS 

Once  arrived,  the  three  friends  perceived,  in  one 
of  the  oldest  houses  of  this  street,  a  staircase  with 
shaky  steps,  having  the  upright  of  each  step  rough 
with  mud,  which  conducted  them,  in  the  half-light 
and  through  an  evil  odor  peculiar  to  houses  in  alleys, 
up  to  the  third  floor,  to  a  door  which  a  design  alone 
could  justly  render;  literature  would  lose  too  many 
nights  in  endeavoring  to  paint  it  suitably. 

An  old  woman,  in  harmony  with  the  door,  and 
who,  perhaps,  was  the  door  animated,  introduced  the 
three  friends  into  a  room  serving  as  antechamber, 
where,  notwithstanding  the  warm  atmosphere  which 
flooded  the  streets  of  Paris,  they  felt  the  icy  cold  of 
the  most  profound  crypts.  There  came  into  it  a 
damp  air  from  an  interior  court-yard  which  resem- 
bled a  vast  breathing-hole  of  a  dungeon,  the  day- 
light was  gray,  and  on  the  sill  of  the  window  was 
a  little  garden  full  of  unhealthy  plants.  In  this 
room,  plastered  with  a  greasy  and  sooty  substance, 
the  chairs,  the  table,  everything  had  a  miserable 
air.  The  floor  sweated  like  a  water-cooler.  In 
short,  the  least  accessory  was  here  in  harmony 
with  the  frightful  old  woman  with  a  hooked  nose,  a 
pale  face,  and  clothed  in  decent  rags,  who  told  the 
consultors  to  seat  themselves,  informing  them  that 
only  one  at  a  time  could  go  in  to  see  MADAME. 

Gazonal,  affecting  intrepidity,  entered  bravely 
and  found  himself  before  one  of  those  women  for- 
gotten by  Death,  who,  doubtless,  forgets  them  pur- 
posely in  order  to  leave  some  exemplars  of  himself 
among  the  living.     It  was  a  dried  face,  in  which 


THE   INVOLUNTARY  COMEDIANS  385 

glittered  two  gray  eyes  of  a  fatiguing  immobility; 
an  indented  nose,  smeared  with  tobacco;  with  two 
small  bundles  of  bones  very  well  covered  by  muscles 
sufficiently  like  them  and  which,  under  the  pretext 
of  being  hands,  were  nonchalantly  shuffling  the 
cards,  like  a  machine,  the  movement  of  which  is 
about  to  stop.  The  body,  a  species  of  broom- 
handle,  decently  covered  with  a  gown,  enjoyed  all 
the  advantages  of  still  life;  it  did  not  move  in  the 
least.  Over  the  forehead  rose  a  head-dress  of  black 
velvet.  Madame  Fontaine,  it  was  a  real  woman, 
had  a  black  hen  at  her  right,  and  at  her  left  an  im- 
mense toad  called  Astaroth,  which  Gazonal  did  not 
see  at  first. 

The  toad,  of  surprising  dimensions,  was  less  terri- 
fying in  himself  than  by  two  topazes,  large  as  fifty- 
centime  pieces  and  which  threw  two  lights  like  a 
lamp.  It  is  impossible  to  sustain  this  look.  As 
was  said  by  the  late  Lassailly,  who,  lying  out  in  the 
country,  wished  to  get  the  best  of  a  toad  by  which 
he  was  fascinated,  the  toad  is  an  unexplained  being. 
Perhaps  the  animal  creation,  man  included,  is 
summed  up  in  him ;  for,  said  Lassailly,  the  toad  lives 
indefinitely;  and,  as  is  known,  it  is  the  one  of  all 
created  animals  whose  marriage  endures  the  longest. 

The  black  hen  had  her  cage  at  two  steps  from  the 
table,  which  was  covered  with  a  green  cloth,  and 
reached  it  by  a  board  which  served  as  a  drawbridge 
between  the  cage  and  the  table. 

When  this  woman,  the  most  unreal  of  the  crea- 
tures which  furnished  this  Hoffmannesque  den, 
25 


386  THE  INVOLUNTARY  COMEDIANS 

said  to  Gazonal  "Cut! — "  the  honest  manufacturer 
felt  an  involuntary  shudder.  What  renders  these 
creatures  so  formidable,  is  the  importance  of  that 
which  we  wish  to  know.  One  wishes  to  buy  from 
them  hope,  and  they  know  it  very  well. 

The  grotto  of  this  sibyl  was  much  more  sombre 
than  the  antechamber,  the  color  of  the  paper  could 
not  be  distinguished.  The  ceiling,  blackened  by 
smoke,  far  from  reflecting  the  little  light  which 
came  through  the  window  obstructed  by  a  meagre 
and  pale  vegetation,  absorbed  the  greater  part  of  it; 
but  this  half-light  lit  fully  the  table  at  which  the 
sorceress  was  seated.  This  table,  the  arm-chair  of 
the  old  woman  and  that  in  which  Gazonal  sat  com- 
posed all  the  furniture  of  this  little  apartment,  cut 
in  two  by  a  loft,  in  which  doubtless  Madame  Fon- 
taine slept.  Through  a  little  door  partly  opened, 
Gazonal  heard  a  peculiar  murmur  of  a  pot  boiling 
over  the  fire.  This  sound  of  cooking,  accompanied 
with  a  composite  odor  in  which  preponderated  that 
of  a  sink,  mingled  incongruously  the  ideas  of  the 
necessities  of  actual  life  with  the  ideas  of  a  super- 
natural power.  It  was  disgust  in  curiosity.  Ga- 
zonal perceived  a  step  of  white  wood,  the  last 
doubtless  of  the  interior  stairway  which  led  to  the 
loft.  He  took  in  all  these  details  with  one  glance, 
and  he  was  nauseated.  It  was  frightful  in  a  very 
different  way  from  the  recitals  of  the  romancers  and 
the  scenes  in  the  German  dramas;  it  was  of  a 
suffocating  veracity.  A  heaviness  that  induced 
vertigo  disengaged  itself  from  the  air,  the  obscurity 


THE   INVOLUNTARY  COMEDIANS  387 

ended  by  irritating  the  nerves.  When  the  South- 
erner, stimulated  by  a  species  of  fatuity,  looked  at 
the  toad,  he  felt  something  like  the  heat  of  an 
emetic  in  the  pit  of  his  stomach,  in  experiencing  a 
terror  similar  enough  to  that  of  a  criminal  before 
the  gendarme.  He  endeavored  to  recomfort  himself 
by  examining  Madame  Fontaine,  but  he  encountered 
two  eyes  almost  white,  the  motionless  and  freezing 
eyeballs  of  which  were  to  him  insupportable.  The 
silence  then  became  frightful. 

"What  will  you  have,  Monsieur,"  said  Madame 
Fontaine  to  Gazonal,  "the  deal  of  five  francs,  the 
deal  of  ten  francs,  or  the  grand  deal  ?" 

"The  deal  of  five  francs  is  already  sufficiently 
dear,"  replied  the  Southerner,  who  was  making  un- 
heard-of efforts  within  himself  not  to  allow  himself 
to  be  affected  by  his  surroundings.  At  the  moment 
when  Gazonal  was  endeavoring  to  gather  himself 
together,  an  infernal  voice  made  him  leap  in  his 
chair:  the  black  hen  cackled. 

"Go  away,  my  daughter,  go  away;  Monsieur 
does  not  wish  to  expend  more  than  five  francs." 

And  the  hen  seemed  to  have  comprehended  her 
mistress,  for,  after  having  come  to  within  a  step  of 
the  cards,  she  returned  gravely  to  her  place. 

"What  flower  do  you  like?"  asked  the  old  woman, 
in  a  voice  made  hoarse  by  the  humors  which  inces- 
santly ascended  and  descended  in  her  bronchial  tubes. 

"The  rose." 

"What  color  do  you  like  the  best?" 

"Blue." 


388  THE   INVOLUNTARY  COMEDIANS 

"What  animal  do  you  prefer?" 

"The  horse.  Why  these  questions?"  asked  Ga- 
zonal  in  his  turn. 

"Man  is  connected  with  all  forms  by  his  anterior 
states,"  said  she,  sententiously ;  "from  these  come 
his  instincts,  and  his  instincts  dominate  his  destiny. 
— What  do  you  eat  with  the  most  pleasure?  fish, 
game,  cereals,  butchers'  meat,  sweets,  vegetables  or 
fruits?" 

"Game." 

"In  what  month  were  you  born?" 

"September." 

"Put  out  your  hand." 

Madame  Fontaine  studied  very  attentively  the 
lines  in  the  hand  which  was  presented  to  her.  All 
this  was  done  seriously,  without  any  premeditation 
of  sorcery,  and  with  a  simplicity  which  a  notary 
would  have  assumed  in  inquiring  the  intentions  of  a 
client  before  drawing  up  a  deed.  When  the  cards 
were  sufficiently  shuffled,  she  requested  Gazonal  to 
cut  them,  and  to  make  himself  three  packs.  She 
took  the  packs,  spread  them  out  one  above  the  other, 
examined  them  as  a  player  examines  the  thirty-six 
numbers  of  the  roulette  before  risking  his  stake. 
Gazonal  felt  his  bones  chilled,  he  no  longer  knew 
where  he  was;  but  his  astonishment  mounted  higher 
and  higher  as  this  frightful  old  woman  in  a  green 
capote,  greasy  and  flat,  of  which  the  false  elevation 
showed  much  more  of  black  ribbons  than  of  hair, 
frizzled  into  points  of  interrogation,  went  on  to  retail 
to  him  in  her  voice  charged  with  phlegm  all  the 


THE   INVOLUNTARY  COMEDIANS  389 

particulars,  even  the  most  secret,  of  his  former  life, 
recounted  to  him  his  tastes,  his  habits,  his  charac- 
ter, even  the  ideas  of  his  childhood;  all  that  could 
have  had  influence  upon  him,  his  intended  marriage, 
why  it  had  failed,  with  whom,  the  exact  description 
of  the  woman  whom  he  had  loved,  and  finally,  from 
what  country  he  had  come,  his  lawsuit,  etc. 

Gazonal  believed  at  first  in  a  mystification  pre- 
pared by  his  cousin;  but  the  absurdity  of  this  con- 
spiracy revealed  itself  to  him  as  soon  as  the  idea 
presented  itself,  and  he  rested  open-mouthed  before 
this  power  truly  infernal>  the  incarnation  of  which 
borrows  from  humanity  that  which,  in  all  times, 
the  imagination  of  painters  and  poets  has  regarded 
as  the  most  frightful  thing, — an  atrocious  little  old 
woman,  short-winded,  toothless,  with  cold  lips, 
with  a  flat  nose,  with  white  eyes.  The  eyeball  of 
Madame  Fontaine  had  become  animated,  there 
passed  into  it  a  ray  sprung  from  the  profundities  of 
the  future  or  of  hell.  Gazonal  asked  mechanically, 
in  interrupting  the  old  woman,  of  what  use  were  the 
toad  and  the  hen. 

"To  be  able  to  predict  the  future.  The  consultor 
himself  throws  some  grains  at  hazard  on  the  cards, 
Cleopatra  comes  to  pick  them  up;  Astaroth  drags 
himself  over  to  seek  his  nourishment  which  the 
client  offers  him,  and  these  two  admirable  intelli- 
gences are  never  deceived:  would  you  wish  to  see 
them  at  work,  you  will  know  your  future?  It  is  a 
hundred  francs." 

Gazonal,   frightened    at   the    look    of   Astaroth, 


390  THE   INVOLUNTARY  COMEDIANS 

precipitated  himself  into  the  antechamber,  after 
having  saluted  the  terrible  Madame  Fontaine.  He 
was  all  wet,  and  as  if  under  the  infernal  incubation 
of  the  evil  spirit. 

"Let  us  go! — "  he  said  to  the  two  artists.  "Have 
you  ever  consulted  this  sorceress?" 

"I  do  nothing  important  without  making  Astaroth 
speak,"  said  Leon,  "and  I  have  always  been  recom- 
pensed." 

"I  am  waiting  for  the  honest  fortune  which  Cleo- 
patra has  promised  me,"  said  Bixiou. 

"I  am  in  a  fever,"  cried  the  Southerner;  "if  I 
believe  in  what  you  tell  me,  1  should  then  believe  in 
sorcery,  in  a  supernatural  power?" 

"That  can  only  be  natural,"  replied  Bixiou.  "The 
third  of  the  lorettes,  a  quarter  of  the  statesmen,  half 
the  artists  consult  Madame  Fontaine,  and  a  minister 
is  known  to  whom  she  served  as  an  Egeria. " 

"Did  she  tell  you  your  future?"  asked  Leon. 

"No,  I  had  enough  of  it  with  my  past.  But,  if 
she  can,  with  the  aid  of  her  frightful  collaborators, 
predict  the  future,"  said  Gazonal,  seized  with  an 
idea,  "how  is  it  that  she  loses  at  the  lottery?" 

"Ah!  there  you  put  your  finger  upon  one  of  the 
greatest  mysteries  of  the  occult  sciences,"  replied 
Leon.  "As  soon  as  that  species  of  interior  mirror 
in  which  is  reflected  for  them  the  future  or  the  past 
becomes  obscure  under  the  breath  of  a  personal  sen- 
timent, of  any  idea  whatever  foreign  to  the  active 
power  which  they  exercise,  sorcerers  or  sorceresses 
no  longer  see  anything,  in  the  same  way  that  an 


THE   INVOLUNTARY  COMEDIANS  391 

artist  who  sullies  art  by  a  political  or  systematic 
combination  loses  his  talent.  It  is  not  so  long  ago 
that  a  man  endowed  with  a  gift  of  divination  by  the 
cards,  a  rival  of  Madame  Fontaine,  and  who  was 
addicted  to  criminal  practices,  was  not  able  to  cut 
the  cards  for  himself  and  to  foresee  that  he  would  be 
arrested,  judged  and  condemned  in  the  Court  of  As- 
sizes. Madame  Fontaine,  who  predicts  the  future 
eight  times  out  of  ten,  has  never  been  able  to  fore- 
tell that  she  would  lose  her  stake  in  the  lottery." 

"It  is  so  in  magnetism,"  observed  Bixiou.  "No 
one  is  able  to  magnetize  himself." 

"Good!  now  for  magnetism!"  cried  Gazonal. 
"Ah,  there!  you  are  then  acquainted  with  every- 
thing?—" 

"Friend  Gazonal,"  replied  Bixiou,  gravely,  "in 
order  to  be  able  to  laugh  at  everything,  it  is  neces- 
sary to  be  acquainted  with  everything.  As  for  my- 
self, I  have  been  in  Paris  since  my  childhood,  and 
my  pencil  enables  me  to  live  here  by  ridicule,  five 
caricatures  a  month — .  I  thus  very  often  mock  at 
an  idea  in  which  I  have  faith!" 

"Let  us  go  on  to  other  exercises,"  said  Leon; 
"let  us  go  to  the  Chamber,  and  we  will  arrange  the 
cousin's  affair." 

"This,"  said  Bixiou,  imitating  Odry  and  Gaillard, 
"is  in  the  realms  of  high  comedy,  for  we  will  make 
the  first  orator  whom  we  meet  in  the  audience-hall 
pose  for  us,  and  you  will  recognize  there  as  every- 
where else  the  Parisian  language,  which  has  never 
but  two  rhythms:  interest  and  vanity." 


392  THE   INVOLUNTARY  COMEDIANS 

As  they  took  their  carriage  again,  Leon  perceived 
in  a  cabriolet  which  passed  rapidly  a  man,  to  whom, 
with  a  sign  of  the  hand,  he  communicated  his  desire 
to  speak  a  word  to  him. 

"It  is  Publicola  Masson,"  said  Leon  to  Bixiou;  "1 
am  going  to  ask  him  for  a  sitting  this  evening,  at 
five  o'clock,  after  the  Chamber.  The  cousin  will 
have  the  most  curious  of  all  the  originals — " 

"Who  is  it?"  asked  Gazonal  while  Leon  was 
speaking  to  Publicola  Masson. 

"A  pedicure,  author  of  a  treatise  on  Corporistique, 
who  will  treat  your  corns  by  subscription,  and  who, 
if  the  Republicans  triumph  in  the  next  six  months, 
will  certainly  become  immortal." 

"In  a  carriage?"  cried  Gazonal. 

"But,  friend  Gazonal,  it  is  only  the  millionaires 
who  have  sufficient  leisure  to  go  on  foot  in  Paris." 

"To  the  Chamber,"  cried  Leon  to  the  coachman. 

"Which  one,  Monsieur?" 

"Of  Deputies,"  replied  Leon,  after  exchanging  a 
smile  with  Bixiou. 

"Paris  begins  to  confound  me, "said  Gazonal. 

"In  order  to  make  you  acquainted  with  its  im- 
mensity, moral,  political  and  literary,  we  are  doing 
at  this  moment  like  the  Roman  cicerone,  who  shows 
to  you  at  St.  Peter's  the  thumb  of  the  statue  which 
you  thought  of  the  size  of  life;  you  find  it  a  foot 
long.  You  have  not  yet  measured  one  of  the  great 
toes  of  Paris! — " 

"And  notice,  Cousin  Gazonal,  that  we  take  what 
we  meet;  we  are  not  making  a  selection." 


THE   INVOLUNTARY  COMEDIANS  393 

"This  evening,  you  will  sup  as  they  used  to 
feast  with  Belshazzar,  and  you  will  see  our  Paris, 
intimately,  playing  at  lansquenet,  and  risking  a 
hundred  thousand  francs  on  a  stake,  without  wink- 
ing." 

A  quarter  of  an  hour  later,  the  coach  stopped  at 
the  foot  of  the  steps  to  the  Chamber  of  Deputies,  at 
that  end  of  the  Pont  de  la  Concorde  which  leads  to 
discord. 

"I  thought  the  Chamber  unattainable? — "  said 
the  Southerner,  surprised  to  find  himself  in  the 
middle  of  the  great  Salle  des  Pas  Perdus. 

"That  is  according  to  circumstances,"  replied 
Bixiou;  "materially  speaking,  it  costs  thirty  sous 
for  carriage  hire;  politically,  one  expends  something 
more.  The  swallows  think,  says  a  poet,  that  the 
Arc  de  Triomphe  de  l'Etoile  was  built  for  them;  we 
think,  we  artists,  that  this  monument  here  has 
been  built  to  compensate  us  for  the  deficiencies 
of  the  Theatre-Francais  and  to  make  us  laugh;  but 
these  comedians  cost  a  much  higher  price,  and  do 
not  always  give  us  the  worth  of  our  money." 

"Let  us  then  see  the  Chamber! — "  repeated 
Gazonal. 

And  he  strode  around  the  hall,  in  which  there  hap- 
pened to  be  at  this  moment  some  ten  persons,  look- 
ing at  everything  with  an  air  which  Bixiou  engraved 
in  his  memory  for  one  of  those  celebrated  caricatures 
in  which  he  contested  the  supremacy  with  Gavarni. 

Leon  went  to  speak  with  one  of  the  doorkeepers 
who  came  and  went  constantly  from  this  hall  into 


394  THE   INVOLUNTARY  COMEDIANS 

that  of  the  sittings,  with  which  it  communicated  by 
the  corridor  in  which  were  stationed  the  stenogra- 
pher of  the  Moniteur  and  some  persons  attached  to 
the  Chamber. 

"As  to  the  minister,"  replied  the  doorkeeper  to 
Leon  at  the  moment  when  Gazonal  approached  them, 
"he  is  there;  but  I  do  not  know  if  Monsieur  Giraud 
is  still  there;  I  will  go  and  see — " 

When  the  doorkeeper  opened  one  of  the  wings 
of  the  swing  door  by  which  entered  only  the 
deputies,  the  ministers  or  the  commissioners  from 
the  king,  Gazonal  saw  come  out  a  man  who 
appeared  to  him  still  young,  although  he  was  forty- 
eight  years  of  age,  and  to  whom  the  doorkeeper 
pointed  out  Leon  de  Lora. 

"Ah,  you  are  here !"  said  he,  giving  a  grasp  of  the 
hand  to  Leon  and  to  Bixiou.  "Ah!  you  rogues! 
what  are  you  doing  here  in  the  sanctuary  of  Law?" 

"Parbleu!  we  come  here  to  learn  to  talk  non- 
sense," said  Bixiou;  "without  that,  one  would  get 
rusty." 

"Let  us  then  go  into  the  garden,"  replied  the 
young  man,  not  thinking  that  the  Southerner  was  of 
the  company. 

On  seeing  this  unknown  well  dressed,  all  in  black, 
and  without  any  decoration,  Gazonal  did  not  know 
in  what  political  category  to  classify  him,  but  he 
followed  him  into  the  garden  adjoining  the  hall  and 
which  extends  along  the  quay  formerly  called  Quai 
Napoleon.  Once  in  the  garden,  the  ci-devant  young 
man  gave  utterance  to  a  laugh  which  he  had  been 


THE   INVOLUNTARY  COMEDIANS  395 

suppressing  since  his  entrance  into  the  Salle  des  Pas 
Perdns. 

"What  is  it  that  amuses  you? — "  said  Leon  de 
Lora  to  him. 

"My  dear  friend,  in  order  to  be  able  to  establish 
the  sincerity  of  the  constitutional  government,  we 
are  compelled  to  utter  frightful  falsehoods  with  an 
incredible  assurance.  But,  for  myself,  I  work  by  the 
day.  If  there  are  days  in  which  I  lie  like  a  pro- 
gramme, there  are  others  in  which  I  cannot  be  seri- 
ous. This  is  my  day  of  hilarity.  Now,  at  this 
moment,  the  head  of  the  cabinet,  summoned  by  the 
opposition  to  reveal  diplomatic  secrets  which  it 
would  refuse  to  reveal  if  it  itself  were  the  ministry, 
is  in  the  act  of  going  through  his  exercises  in  the 
tribune;  and,  as  he  is  an  honest  man,  as  he  does 
not  lie  on  his  own  account,  he  whispered  to  me 
before  mounting  to  the  assault:  'I  do  not  know  what 
to  retail  to  them ! — '  When  1  saw  him  there,  I  had 
a  wild  desire  to  laugh,  and  I  came  out,  for  you  can- 
not laugh  on  the  bench  of  the  ministers,  where  my 
youthfulness  sometimes  returns  to  me  tempes- 
tuously." 

"At  last!"  cried  Gazonal,  "I  find  an  honest  man 
in  Paris!  You  must  be  a  very  superior  man!"  said 
he,  looking  at  the  unknown. 

"Ah,  now!  who  is  monsieur?"  said  the  ci-devant 
young  man,  examining  Gazonal. 

"My  cousin,"  replied  Leon,  quickly.  "I  answer 
for  his  silence  and  for  his  honesty  as  for  my 
own.     It  is  he  who  brings  us  here,  for  he  has  an 


30  THE   INVOLUNTARY  COMEDIANS 

administrative  process  which  depends  upon  your 
minister;  his  prefect  wishes  quite  simply  to  ruin 
him,  and  we  have  come  to  see  you  to  hinder  the 
Council  of  State  from  consummating  an  injustice—" 

"Who  is  the  Rapporteur?—" 

"Massol." 

"Good!" 

"And  our  friend  Giraud  and  Claude  Vignon  are  in 
the  section,"  said  Bixiou. 

"Say  a  word  to  them,  and  they  will  come  this 
evening  to  Carabine's,  where  Du  Tillet  is  giving  a 
fete  under  pretext  of  the  railways,  for  they  are  rob- 
bing more  than  ever  now  on  the  roads,"  added  Leon. 

"Ah,  there!  but  this  is  in  the  Pyrenees?—" 
asked  the  young  man,  suddenly  become  serious. 

"Yes,"  said  Gazonal. 

"And  you  did  not  vote  for  us  in  the  elections  ?— " 
said  the  statesman,  looking  at  Gazonal. 

"No;  but,  after  what  you  have  just  said  before 
me,  you  have  corrupted  me :  on  the  word  of  a  com- 
mandant in  the  National  Guard,  I  will  cause  your 
candidate  to  be  nominated—" 

"Well,  will  you  still  guarantee  your  cousin? — " 
asked  the  young  man  of  Leon. 

"We  will  form  him,—"  said  Bixiou,  in  a  pro- 
foundly funny  tone. 

"Well,  I  will  see—,"  said  this  personage,  leaving 
his  friends  and  returning  hastily  into  the  Chamber. 

"Well,  now,  who  is  that?"  asked  Gazonal. 

"Well,  the  Comte  de  Rastignac,  the  minister  of 
the  department  in  which  is  your  case — " 


THE   INVOLUNTARY  COMEDIANS  397 

"A  minister! — it  is  no  more  than  that? — " 

"But  he  is  an  old  friend  of  ours.  He  has  three  hun- 
dred thousand  livres  income;  he  is  peer  of  France, 
the  king  has  made  him  count;  he  is  the  son-in- 
law  of  Nucingen,  and  he  is  one  of  the  two  or  three 
statesmen  to  whom  the  Revolution  of  July  gave 
birth;  but  power  wearies  him  sometimes  and  he 
comes  to  laugh  with  us — " 

"Ah,  there!  you  did  not  tell  us  that  you  were  in 
the  opposition  down  there? — "  said  Leon,  taking 
Gazonal  by  the  arm.  "Are  you  stupid?  Whether 
there  is  a  deputy  the  more  or  the  less  in  the  Left  or 
in  the  Right,  will  that  furnish  you  with  better 
cloths?" 

"We  are  for  others — " 

"Let  them  alone,  "said  Bixiou,  quite  as  comically 
as  Monrose  would  have  said  it;  "they  have  Provi- 
dence on  their  side;  he  will  bring  them  out  all  right 
without  you  and  despite  themselves — .  A  manu- 
facturer should  be  a  fatalist." 

"Good!  there  is  Maxime  with  Canalis  and 
Giraud!"  cried  Leon. 

"Come,  friend  Gazonal,  the  promised  actors 
arrive  on  the  stage,"  said  Bixiou  to  him. 

And  all  three  of  them  moved  toward  the  persons 
indicated,  who  seemed  to  be  sufficiently  disen- 
gaged. 

"Have  they  sent  you  out  to  take  a  walk,  that  you 
go  about  like  that?"  said  Bixiou  to  Giraud. 

"No:  while  they  are  voting  on  the  secret  ballot," 
replied  Giraud,  "we  came  out  to  take  the  air — " 


398  THE   INVOLUNTARY  COMEDIANS 

"And  how  did  the  chief  of  the  Cabinet  acquit 
himself?"— 

"He  was  magnificent!"  said  Canalis. 

"Magnificent!"  repeated  Giraud. 

"Magnificent!"  said  Maxime. 

"Well,  now!  the  Left,  the  Right,  the  Centre,  are 
unanimous?" 

"We  have  each  of  us  a  different  idea,"  observed 
Maxime  de  Trailles. 

Maxime  was  a  ministerial  deputy.     < 

"Yes,"  replied  Canalis,  laughing. 

Although  Canalis  had  already  been  a  minister,  he 
was  sitting  at  this  period  in  the  neighborhood  of  the 
Right. 

"Ah!  you  have  just  had  a  fine  triumph!"  said 
Maxime  to  Canalis,  "for  it  is  you  who  forced  the 
minister  to  mount  the  tribune." 

"And  to  lie  like  a  charlatan,"  replied  Canalis. 

"A  fine  victory !"  said  the  honest  Giraud.  "In 
his  place,  what  would  you  have  done?" 

"I  would  have  lied." 

"That  is  not  called  lying,"  said  Maxime  de 
Trailles,  "that  is  called  covering  the  crown." 

And  he  led  Canalis  some  paces  away. 

"He  is  a  really  fine  orator!"  said  Leon  to  Giraud, 
indicating  Canalis. 

"Yes  and  no,"  replied  the  Councillor  of  State; 
"he  is  hollow,  he  is  sonorous;  it  is  rather  an  artist 
in  words  than  an  orator.  In  fact,  it  is  a  fine  instru- 
ment, but  it  is  not  music;  thus  he  has  not  and  never 
will   have   the  ear  of  the   Chamber.     He   believes 


THE   INVOLUNTARY  COMEDIANS  399 

himself  necessary  to  France;  but  in  no  case  can  he 
ever  be  the  man  of  the  situation." 

Canalis  and  Maxime  returned  to  the  group  at  the 
moment  when  Giraud,  deputy  of  the  Left  Centre, 
had  pronounced  this  verdict.  Maxime  took  Giraud 
by  the  arm  and  led  him  away  from  the  others  to 
make  to  him,  perhaps,  the  same  confidences  that  he 
had  just  done  to  Canalis. 

"What  an  honest  and  worthy  fellow!"  said  Leon, 
indicating  Giraud  to  Canalis. 

"It  is  those  honesties  which  kill  governments," 
replied  Canalis. 

"In  your  opinion,  is  he  a  good  orator? — " 

"Yes  and  no,"  replied  Canalis;  "he  is  verbose, 
he  is  fine-drawn.  He  is  a  workman  in  reasoning,  he 
is  a  good  logician ;  but  he  does  not  comprehend  the 
great  logic,  that  of  events  and  of  affairs :  thus  he  has 
not  and  he  never  will  have  the  ear  of  the  Cham- 
ber—" 

At  the  moment  in  which  Canalis  issued  this  ver- 
dict on  Giraud,  the  latter  returned  with  Maxime  to 
the  group ;  and,  forgetting  the  presence  of  a  stranger 
whose  discretion  was  not  known  to  them  as  was 
that  of  Leon  and  of  Bixiou,  he  took  the  hand  of 
Canalis  in  a  significant  fashion. 

"Well,"  said  he,  "I  consent  to  the  proposition  of 
Monsieur  le  Comte  de  Trailles,  I  will  make  the  inter- 
pellation to  you,  but  with  a  great  severity." 

"We  will  then  have  the  Chamber  with  us  in  this 
question ;  for  a  man  of  your  capacity  and  of  your 
eloquence    has    always   the  ear  of  the   Chamber," 


400  THE   INVOLUNTARY  COMEDIANS 

replied  Canalis.  "I  will  reply, — but  promptly,  to 
crush  you." 

"You  may  be  able  to  bring  about  a  change  in  the 
Cabinet,  for  you  can  bring  about  on  such  a  ground 
whatever  you  wish  of  the  Chamber,  and  you  will 
become  the  man  of  the  situation — " 

"Maxime  has  hoodwinked  both  of  them,"  said 
Leon  to  his  cousin.  "That  rascal  there  finds  him- 
self in  the  intrigues  of  the  Chamber  like  a  fish  in 
the  water." 

"Who  is  it?"  asked  Gazonal. 

"An  ex-rogue  on  the  way  to  become  an  ambassa- 
dor," replied  Bixiou. 

"Giraud!"  said  Leon  to  the  Councillor  of  State, 
"do  not  go  away  without  having  asked  of  Rastignac 
that  which  he  promised  me  to  say  to  you  in  relation 
to  a  case  which  you  will  judge  the  day  after  to- 
morrow and  which  relates  to  my  cousin  here;  I  will 
come  to  see  you  to-morrow  on  this  subject,  in  the 
morning." 

And  the  three  friends  followed  the  three  men  of 
politics  at  a  distance,  directing  their  steps  toward 
the  Salle  des  Pas  Perdus. 

"Look,  cousin,  see  those  two  men,"  said  Leon  to 
Gazonal,  showing  to  him  a  former  minister,  very 
celebrated,  and  the  chief  of  the  Left  Centre,  "there 
are  two  orators  who  have  the  ear  of  the  Chamber 
and  who  have  been  facetiously  surnamed  the  min- 
isters of  the  departments  of  the  Oppositions;  they 
have  so  well  the  ear  of  the  Chamber,  that  they  pull 
it  very  often." 


THE   INVOLUNTARY  COMEDIANS  40 1 

"It  is  four  o'clock,  let  us  return  to  the  Rue  de 
Berlin,"  said  Bixiou. 

"Yes,  you  have  just  seen  the  heart  of  the  govern- 
ment ;  it  is  necessary  to  show  you  the  helminths,  the 
ascarides,  the  tcenia,  the  Republican,  since  it  is 
necessary  to  call  it  by  its  name,"  said  Leon  to  his 
cousin. 

When  the  three  friends  were  installed  in  their 
fiacre,  Gazonal  looked  mischievously  at  his  cousin 
and  at  Bixiou,  like  a  man  who  is  about  to  launch  a 
flood  of  oratorical  and  Meridional  bile. 

"I  was  strongly  suspicious  of  this  great  drab  of  a 
city,  but  since  this  morning,  I  despise  it!  The  poor 
province,  so  shabby,  is  an  honest  girl ;  but  Paris,  it 
is  a  prostitute,  greedy,  lying,  an  actress,  and  I  am 
very  well  content  not  to  have  left  any  more  of  my 
skin  here — " 

"The  day  is  not  ended,"  said  Bixiou,  senten- 
tiously,  winking  at  Leon. 

"And  why  do  you  complain  stupidly,"  said 
Leon,  "of  a  pretended  prostitution  to  which  you  are 
going  to  owe  the  winning  of  your  suit? — Do  you 
believe  yourself  more  virtuous  than  we  are  and 
less  of  a  comedian,  less  grasping,  less  prompt  to 
descend  any  path  whatever,  less  vain  than  all  those 
with  whom  we  have  played  as  with  jumping- 
jacks?" 

"Suppose  you  try  me — " 

"Poor  fellow!"  said  Leon,  shrugging  his  shoul- 
ders, "have  you  not  already  promised  your  electoral 
influence  to  Rastignac? — " 
26 


402  THE   INVOLUNTARY  COMEDIANS 

"Yes,  because  he  is  the  only  one  who  has  laughed 
at  himself." 

"Poor  fellow !"  repeated  Bixiou,  "you  suspect  me, 
I  who  have  done  nothing  but  laugh! — You  are  like  a 
little  cur  wearying  a  tiger.  —Ah !  if  you  had  seen  us 
ridiculing  anyone! —  Do  you  know  that  we  can 
drive  out  of  his  wits  a  man  of  perfectly  sound  judg- 
ment?—" 

This  conversation  conducted  Gazonal  to  the  house 
of  his  cousin,  where  the  sight  of  the  rich  furnishings 
cut  short  his  speech  and  put  an  end  to  this  debate. 
The  Southerner  perceived,  but  later,  that  Bixiou 
had  already  made  him  pose. 

At  half-past  five,  at  the  moment  when  Leon  de 
Lora  finished  his  toilet  for  the  evening,  to  the 
stupefaction  of  Gazonal,  who  enumerated  the  thou- 
sand and  one  superfluities  of  his  cousin  and  who 
admired  the  serious  air  of  the  valet  de  chambre 
in  full  function,  the  pedicure  of  Monsieur  was 
announced. 

Publicola  Masson,  a  little  man,  fifty  years  old, 
whose  face  recalled  that  of  Marat,  entered,  depositing 
a  little  box  of  instruments  and  placing  himself  on  a 
low  chair  in  front  of  Leon,  after  having  saluted 
Gazonal  and  Bixiou. 

"How  are  affairs?"  asked  Leon  of  him,  abandon- 
ing to  him  one  of  his  feet  already  preparatively 
washed  by  the  valet  de  chambre. 

"Oh!  1  have  been  obliged  to  take  two  pupils, 
two  young  persons  who,  despairing  of  making 
their  fortune,   have   abandoned  chirurgery  for  the 


THE   INVOLUNTARY  COMEDIANS  403 

corporistique;  they  were  dying  of  hunger,  and  yet 
they  have  talent — " 

"Oh!  I  was  not  speaking  to  you  of  pedestrian 
affairs,  I  am  asking  you  where  you  are  in  your  po- 
litical affairs — " 

Masson  threw  at  Gazonal  a  look  more  eloquent 
than  any  species  of  interrogation. 

"Oh!  speak,  he  is  my  cousin,  and  he  is  almost 
one  of  yours;  he  thinks  himself  Legitimist." 

"Well,  we  are  getting  on!  we  are  marching!  In 
five  years  from  now,  Europe  will  be  all  ours! — Swit- 
zerland and  Italy  have  been  zealously  worked,  and, 
when  the  occasion  arrives,  we  are  ready.  Here,  we 
have  fifty  thousand  men  armed,  without  counting 
the  two  hundred  thousand  citizens  who  are  penni- 
less—!" 

"Bah!"  said  Leon,  "and  the  fortifications?" 

"Pie  crusts,  which  will  be  swallowed,"  replied 
Masson.  "In  the  first  place,  we  will  not  allow  the 
cannon  to  be  brought;  and  then  we  have  a  little 
machine  more  powerful  than  all  the  forts  in  the 
world,  a  machine  invented  by  a  doctor  who  has  cured 
more  people  than  the  doctors  have  killed  during  the 
whole  period  in  which  they  have  been  operating." 

"How  you  go  on! — "  said  Gazonal,  who  shud- 
dered at  the  sight  of  Publicola. 

"Ah!  it  is  necessary!  we  come  after  Robespierre 
and  Saint-Just;  it  is  to  do  better;  they  were  timid, 
for  you  see  what  has  happened  to  us, — an  emperor, 
the  elder  branch  and  the  younger  branch !  The  Mon- 
tagnards  did  not  sufficiently  prune  the  social  tree." 


404  THE   INVOLUNTARY  COMEDIANS 

"Ah,  there!  you  who  are  going  to  be,  as  it  is 
said,  Consul  or  something  like  Tribune,  do  not  for- 
get," said  Bixiou,  "that  I  have  been  demanding 
your  protection  for  the  last  twelve  years." 

"Nothing  will  happen  to  you,  for  we  shall  want 
loustics,*  and  you  can  take  Barere's  trade,"  replied 
the  pedicure. 

"And  I?"  said  Leon. 

"Ah!  you,  you  are  my  client;  it  is  that  which  will 
save  you;  for  genius  is  an  odious  privilege  to  which 
too  much  has  been  granted  in  France,  and  we  shall 
be  obliged  to  demolish  some  of  our  great  men  in  order 
to  teach  the  others  to  learn  to  be  simple  citizens — " 

The  pedicure  spoke  with  an  air  half-serious,  half- 
waggish,  which  made  Gazonal  shiver. 

"So,"  said  the  Southerner,  "there  will  be  no 
more  religion?" 

"No  more  religion  of  the  State,"  replied  the  opera- 
tor, emphasizing  the  last  three  words,  "each  one 
will  have  his  own.  It  is  very  fortunate  that  at  this 
moment  they  are  protecting  the  convents ;  it  is  there 
that  we  are  preparing  the  capital  of  our  government. 
Everything  is  conspiring  for  us.  Thus,  all  those 
who  pity  the  people,  who  bawl  on  the  question  of 
proletariats  and  of  wages,  who  work  against  the 
Jesuits,  who  occupy  themselves  with  the  ameliora- 
tion of,  no  matter  what, — the  communist,  the  hu- 
manitarian, the  philanthropist,  you  understand,  all 
those  people  are  our  advance-guard.     While  we  are 

*  Loustics— buffoons  in  the  Swiss    regiments  formerly  in  the  service  of 
France;  professional  jesters 


THE   INVOLUNTARY  COMEDIANS  405 

gathering  the  powder,  they  are  weaving  the  fuse  to 
which  the  spark  of  a  circumstance  will  set  fire." 

"Ah,  so!  what  is  it  you  wish  then  for  the  hap- 
piness of  France?"  asked  Gazonal. 

"Equality  for  the  citizens,  the  cheapness  of  all 
commodities — we  wish  that  there  shall  no  longer  be 
those  who  are  in  want  of  everything  and  million- 
aires, blood-suckers  and  victims!" 

"That  is  it!  the  maximum  and  the  minimum}" 
said  Gazonal. 

"You  have  said  it,"  replied  the  pedicure,  de- 
cisively. 

"No  more  manufacturers?" — asked  Gazonal. 

"There  will  be  manufactories  for  the  benefit  of 
the  State,  we  shall  all  be  usufructuaries  of  France — . 
Each  one  will  have  his  ration  as  on  a  vessel, 
and  everyone  will  work  then  according  to  his 
capacity." 

"Good!"  said  Gazonal,  "and,  while  waiting  till 
you  can  cut  off  the  heads  of  the  aristocrats — " 

"I  pare  their  nails,"  said  the  radical  Republican, 
who  put  away  his  tools  and  who  finished  the  jest 
himself. 

He  bowed  very  politely  and  went  out. 

"Is  it  possible?  in  1845—"  cried  Gazonal. 

"If  we  had  the  time,  we  would  show  you, "  replied 
the  landscape-painter,  "all  the  personages  of  1793; 
you  could  talk  with  them  all.  You  have  just  seen 
Marat;  well,  we  know  also  Fouquier-Tinville,  Col- 
lot-d'Herbois,  Robespierre,  Chabot,  Fouche,  Barras, 
and  there  is  even  a  magnificent  Madame  Roland." 


406  THE   INVOLUNTARY  COMEDIANS 

"Come,  in  this  theatrical  representation,  the 
tragedy  has  not  been  missing, "  said  the  Southerner. 

"It  is  six  o'clock:  before  we  take  you  to  see  Les 
Saltimbanques,  which  Odry  plays  this  evening," 
said  Leon  to  his  cousin,  "it  is  necessary  to  go  and 
pay  a  visit  to  Madame  Cadine,  an  actress  who  cul- 
tivates a  good  deal  your  Rapporteur  Massol,  and  to 
whom  you  will  have  this  evening  to  pay  assiduous 
court." 

"As  it  is  necessary  for  you  to  conciliate  this 
power,  I  am  going  to  give  you  some  instructions," 
added  Bixiou.  "Do  you  employ  workwomen  in 
your  manufactory?" 

"Certainly,"  replied  Gazonal, 

"That  is  all  I  wish  to  know,"  said  Bixiou;  "you 
are  not  married,  you  are  a  great — " 

"Yes!"  cried  Gazonal,  "you  have  guessed  my 
strong  point,  I  love  women — " 

"Well,  if  you  will  execute  the  little  manoeuvre 
which  I  am  going  to  prescribe  to  you,  you  will 
know,  without  expending  a  Hard,  the  charms  which 
one  tastes  in  the  intimacy  of  an  actress." 

When  they  arrived  in  the  Rue  de  la  Victoire,  in 
which  the  celebrated  actress  lived,  Bixiou,  who  was 
meditating  a  trick  upon  the  suspicious  Gazonal,  had 
barely  finished  indicating  his  role  to  him;  but  the 
Southerner  had,  as  will  be  seen,  comprehended  it  at 
the  first  word. 

The  three  friends  mounted  to  the  second  story  of 
a  handsome  enough  house,  and  found  Jennie  Cadine 
finishing  her   dinner,  for  she  was  playing   in  the 


THE   INVOLUNTARY  COMEDIANS  407 

second  piece  on  the  boards  of  the  Gymnase.  After  the 
presentation  of  Gazonal  to  this  fair  puissance,  Leon 
and  Bixiou,  in  order  to  leave  him  alone  with  her, 
invented  a  pretence  of  going  to  see  a  new  piece  of 
furniture;  but,  before  leaving  the  actress,  Bixiou 
said  to  her,  aside : 

"It  is  Leon's  cousin,  a  manufacturer  worth  mil- 
lions, and  who,  to  gain  his  suit  before  the  Council 
of  State  against  the  prefect,  thinks  it  worth  while 
to  seduce  you,  in  order  to  have  Massol  on  his 
side." 

All  Paris  knows  the  beauty  of  this  young  pre- 
miere; the  stupefaction  of  the  Southerner  on  seeing 
her  may  then  be  readily  understood.  Received 
almost  coldly  at  first,  he  soon  became  the  object  of 
the  good  graces  of  Jennie  Cadine  during  the  few 
minutes  that  they  remained  alone. 

"How,"  said  Gazonal,  looking  with  disdain  at 
the  furniture  of  the  salon  through  the  door  which 
his  confederates  had  left  partially  open,  and  in  com- 
puting that  it  was  about  equal  to  that  of  the  dining- 
room,  "how  is  it  that  a  woman  like  you  is  left  in 
such  a  dog-kennel?" 

"Ah!  see! — what  would  you  have!  Massol  is  not 
rich,  I  am  waiting  till  he  becomes  a  minister — " 

"What  a  lucky  man !"  cried  Gazonal,  giving  vent 
to  the  sigh  of  a  provincial. 

"Good!"  said  the  actress  to  herself,  "my  furni- 
ture will  be  renewed — I  can  then  rival  Carabine!" 

"Well,"  said  Leon,  re-entering,  "my  dear  child, 
you  are  coming  to  Carabine's  this  evening,  are  you 


408  THE  INVOLUNTARY  COMEDIANS 

not?  One  will  sup  there,  one  will  play  lans- 
quenet" 

"Will  Monsieur  be  there  ?"  said  Jennie,  gracefully 
and  ingenuously. 

"Yes,  Madame,"  said  Gazonal,  dazzled  with  this 
rapid  success. 

"But  Massol  will  be  there,"  rejoined  Bixiou. 

"Well,  what  does  that  matter?"  retorted  Jennie. 
"But  let  us  go,  my  jewels,  I  must  be  off  to  my  the- 
atre." 

Gazonal  gave  his  hand  to  the  actress  down  to  the 
closed  carriage  which  was  waiting  for  her,  and  he 
pressed  it  so  tenderly  that  Jennie  Cadine  replied, 
shaking  her  fingers : 

"Eh,  I  have  no  spare  ones!" 

When  they  were  in  the  carriage,  Gazonal  under- 
took to  take  Bixiou  by  the  waist,  exclaiming: 

"She  has  bitten! — .     You  are  a  fine  scoundrel — " 

"So  the  women  say — "  replied  Bixiou. 

At  half-past  eleven,  after  the  theatre,  a  carriage 
conveyed  the  three  friends  to  the  house  of  Made- 
moiselle Seraphine  Sinet,  better  known  under  the 
name  of  Carabine,  one  of  those  noms  de  guerre 
which  the  illustrious  lorettes  take  or  which  is  given 
to  them,  and  which  was  derived  perhaps  from  the 
fact  that  she  has  always  killed  her  pigeon. 

Carabine,  who  had  become  almost  a  necessity  for 
the  famous  banker  Du  Tillet,  deputy  of  the  Left 
Centre,  was  living  at  this  time  in  a  charming  house 
in  the  Rue  Saint-Georges.  There  are  in  Paris 
houses  the  destinies  of  which  does  not  vary,  and 


THE   INVOLUNTARY  COMEDIANS  409 

this  one  had  already  seen  seven  occupations  by- 
courtesans.  A  stock-broker  had  lodged  there,  about 
1827,  Suzanne  du  Val-Noble,  since  become  Madame 
Gaillard.  The  famous  Esther  there  caused  the  Baron 
de  Nucingen  to  commit  the  only  follies  of  which  he 
had  been  guilty.  Florine,  and  she  who  was  face- 
tiously named  the  late  Madame  Schontz,  had  alter- 
nately shone  there.  Wearied  of  his  wife,  Du  Tillet 
had  acquired  this  little  modern  house  and  had  in- 
stalled in  it  the  illustrious  Carabine,  whose  lively 
wit,  whose  cavalier  manners,  whose  brilliant  disso- 
luteness, formed  a  counter-weight  to  the  works  of  his 
domestic,  political  and  financial  life.  Whether  Du 
Tillet  and  Carabine  were  or  were  not  at  home,  the 
table  was  served,  and  splendidly,  for  ten  plates 
every  day.  The  artists,  the  literary  people,  the 
journalists,  habitues  of  the  house,  dined  there.  In 
the  evening  there  was  play.  More  than  one  mem- 
ber of  each  of  the  Chambers  came  to  seek  there 
that  which  is  bought  in  Paris  at  its  weight  in 
gold,  pleasure.  The  eccentric  women,  those  meteors 
of  the  Parisian  firmament  which  are  classified  with 
such  difficulty,  brought  there  the  richness  of  their 
toilets.  One  could  there  be  very  witty,  for  every- 
thing could  be  said  there,  and  everything  was  said 
there.  Carabine,  rival  of  the  not  less  celebrated 
Malaga,  had  thus  come  to  inherit  the  salon  of  Flor- 
ine, become  Madame  Nathan ;  of  that  of  Tullia,  be- 
come Madame  du  Bruel ;  of  that  of  Madame  Schontz, 
become  Madame  la  Presidente  du  Ronceret.  On 
entering,  Gazonal  only  said  one  word,  but  it  was  at 


4IO  THE   INVOLUNTARY  COMEDIANS 


once  legitimate  and  Legitimist:  "It  is  finer  than 
at  the  Tuileries — "  The  satin,  the  velvet,  the  bro- 
cades, the  gold,  the  objects  of  art  which  abounded 
there  so  occupied  the  eyes  of  the  provincial  that  he 
did  not  at  first  perceive  Jennie  Cadine  in  a  toilet  to 
inspire  respect  and  who,  hidden  behind  Carabine, 
watched  the  entrance  of  the  pleader  while  convers- 
ing with  her  friend. 

"My  dear  child,"  said  Leon  to  Carabine,  "this  is 
my  cousin,  a  manufacturer  who  fell  on  me  from  the 
Pyrenees  this  morning;  he  knows  nothing  yet  of 
Paris,  he  has  need  of  Massol  for  an  action  before 
the  Council  of  State;  we  have  then  taken  the  lib- 
erty of  bringing  to  you  Monsieur  Gazonal  for 
supper,  recommending  to  you  to  leave  him  all  his 


reason — " 


"As  Monsieur  pleases;  wine  is  dear,"  said  Cara- 
bine, who  surveyed  Gazonal  and  saw  nothing  re- 
markable in  him. 

Gazonal,  dazed  by  the  toilets,  the  lights,  the  gold 
and  the  chatter  of  the  various  groups  who,  he 
thought,  were  occupied  with  him,  could  only  stam- 
mer these  words : 

"Madame — ,  Madame— is — very  good." 

"What  do  you  manufacture? — "  asked  the  mis- 
tress of  the  household,  smiling. 

"Laces !  And  offer  guipure  laces  to  her ! — "  whis- 
pered Bixiou  in  Gazonal's  ear. 

"Des—dent—  des—" 

"You  are  a  dentist! — Say,  Cadine?  a  dentist  .'you 
are  plundered,  my  little  one." 


THE   INVOLUNTARY  COMEDIANS  41 1 

"Des  dentelles, — "  returned  Gazonal,  compre- 
hending that  it  would  be  necessary  for  him  to  pay 
for  his  supper.  "I  will  do  myself  the  greatest 
pleasure  in  offering  you  a  dress, — a  scarf, — a  man- 
tilla of  my  manufacturing." 

"Ah,  three  things?  Well,  you  are  nicer  than 
you  appear,"  replied  Carabine. 

"Paris  has  pinched  me!"  said  Gazonal  to  him- 
self, perceiving  Jennie  Cadine  and  going  to  speak 
to  her. 

"And  I,  what  shall  I  have? — "  asked  the  actress 
of  him. 

"Why — my  whole  fortune,"  replied  Gazonal, 
who  reflected  that  to  offer  everything  was  to  give 
nothing. 

Massol,  Claude  Vignon,  Du  Tillet,  Maxime  de 
Trailles,  Nucingen,  Du  Bruel,  Malaga,  Monsieur  and 
Madame  Gaillard,  Bauvinet,  a  crowd  of  persons, 
entered. 

After  a  conversation  apart  with  the  manufacturer 
concerning  his  case,  Massol,  without  promising  any- 
thing, said  to  him  that  the  report  was  yet  to  be 
made,  and  that  the  citizens  could  confide  in  the  in- 
telligence and  in  the  independence  of  the  Council  of 
State.  At  this  cold  and  dignified  answer,  Gazonal, 
despairing,  believed  it  necessary  to  seduce  the 
charming  Jennie  Cadine,  with  whom  he  was  des- 
perately in  love.  Leon  de  Lora  and  Bixiou  left  their 
victim  in  the  hands  of  the  most  roguish  of  the 
women  of  this  bizarre  society,  for  Jennie  Cadine  is 
the  only  rival  of  the  famous  Dejazet.     At  the  table, 


412  THE   INVOLUNTARY  COMEDIANS 

where  Gazonal  was  fascinated  by  the  silverware  of 
that  modern  Benvenuto  Cellini,  Froment-Meurice, 
and  of  which  the  contents  were  worthy  of  the  inter- 
est of  that  which  contained  them,  the  two  jokers 
were  careful  to  place  themselves  at  some  distance 
from  him;  but  they  followed  with  a  sly  eye  the 
progress  of  the  witty  actress,  who,  instigated  by 
the  insiduous  promise  of  the  renewal  of  her  furni- 
ture, gave  herself  for  a  theme  the  winning  over  of 
Gazonal.  And,  never  did  a  lamb  of  the  Corpus- 
Christi  allow  itself  to  be  conducted  with  more  com- 
placency by  its  St.  John  the  Baptist  than  did 
Gazonal  in  obeying  this  siren. 

Three  days  later,  Leon  and  Bixiou,  who  had  not 
seen  Gazonal  again,  came  to  seek  him  at  his  hotel 
about  two  o'clock  in  the  afternoon. 

"Well,  cousin,  a  decree  of  the  Council  gives  you 
your  case — " 

"Alas!  it  is  useless,  cousin,"  said  Gazonal,  lifting 
to  the  two  friends  a  melancholy  eye,  "I  have  become 
Republican — " 

"What  is  that?"  said  Leon. 

"I  have  no  longer  anything,  not  even  to  pay  my 
lawyer, "  replied  Gazonal.  "Madame  Jennie  Cadine 
has  notes  of  mine  for  more  money  than  I  have 
goods — " 

"The  fact  is  that  Cadine  is  a  little  dear,  but — " 

"Oh!  I  have  had  it  for  my  money,"  replied  Ga- 
zonal. "Ah!  what  a  woman! — Well,  the  province 
cannot  contend  with  Paris;  I  am  going  to  retire  to 
the  Trappist  Monastery." 


THE   INVOLUNTARY   COMEDIANS  413 

"Good!"  said  Bixiou;  "you  are  reasonable. 
Now,  then,  recognize  the  majesty  of  the  Capital — " 

"And  of  capital!"  exclaimed  Leon,  offering  to 
Gazonal  his  notes.  Gazonal  looked  at  these  papers 
with  a  stupid  air. 

"You  will  not  say  that  we  do  not  understand  hos- 
pitality: we  have  instructed  you  and  saved  you 
from  poverty,  regaled,  and — amused,"  said  Bixiou. 

"And  gratis !"  added  Leon,  making  the  gesture  of 
the  street  gamins  when  they  wish  to  express  the 
action  of  pilfering. 

Paris,  November,  1845. 


LIST  OF    ETCHINGS 


VOLUME   IX 

PAGE 

BIXIOU,  BLONDET,  FINOT  AND   COUTURE  .    .  Fronts. 

LEAVING  THE  OPERA 113 

LA  ZAMBINELLA  AND  SARRASINE 249 

CERIZET  AT  MAXIME'S 289 

IN  THE  RUE  DE  LA  VICTOIRE 321 


9  N.  R.,  Nuc.  415 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 

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